


Along the line

by Jashin88



Series: Along the line, I fell and rose (for you) [1]
Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Swearing, discussion of murder cases, well it´s Gotham
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-13
Updated: 2016-05-16
Packaged: 2018-03-30 10:53:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 21,292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3934081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jashin88/pseuds/Jashin88
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If someone had asked Jim in the morning how he thought his evening would turn out, he wouldn´t have pictured himself on the way to Barbara´s apartment with a criminal plastered to his side.</p><p>Or: Jim and Harvey work a case that sets a lot more in motion than anyone could have predicted.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> My first Gotham fanfiction. Takes place somewhere after episode 1.07; canon divergence after that.
> 
>  
> 
> English isn´t my first language and this story has not been beta´d, so please excuse all mistakes I may have overlooked.  
> If you like the story (or not), please leave some feedback.
> 
>  
> 
> I don´t own any of these characters. Or Gotham. Which would be really nice.

***

There´s rage inside his body, tearing him apart, and he doesn´t know how to get rid of it, doesn´t even know where it comes from. He just **_knows_** and **_feels_** and it´s just too much… Too much, but not yet enough to make him lose it.

He feels everything with such clarity and he just wants to scream, but that´s not an option. No one can know how he feels, that he even feels. That there´s rage and it´s threatening to spill over, out of him and with it words and secrets and everything he has and protects. People and plans and blackmail information.

His bones feel hollow, like those of a bird, too thin to bear the weight of his muscles and skin and the blood he has not yet spilled. Too foreign in a body that he believes to be his but can´t be sure. He isn´t sure of many things, these days. He just knows that he can´t scream, must not scream, because… **_because._**

There´s a reason, there has to be. It lingers on the edge of his thoughts, but he can´t reach it, like he can´t reach his knife, or any weapon for that matter. Why didn´t they take his knife? Why leaving him with a tiny bit of hope, useless for escaping, useless for everything, but hope nonetheless?

He is used to pain. That´s not the problem here. The feeling of transparency, of… He doesn´t know. Just that he holds a key to something. Some secret, powerful enough to scare even the bosses of the criminal underworld. If he could just remember, could just reach this one thought and hold on to it… If he could just…

They come back.

 

\--------------------------------

 

It´s raining.

The cold wind blows through the streets, sweeping garbage off the concrete and carrying it for a short distance, before throwing it against the legs of passersby.

He gets hit with two empty pizza cartons, a plastic bag and a newspaper, before he even makes it into work. It´s warmer inside, though the atmosphere is as chilly as every time he came into work after… well. It´s what happens when there are people running around Gotham who should be lying dead on the bottom of the river. Or floating softly in the water. He isn´t really an expert on how corpses should behave. Besides knowing they should stay dead.

Captain Essen motions for him to come into her office. Bullock and Nygma are already there, which is unusual but not worryingly so. He leaves his coat at his desk and joins them.

“Good morning, Detective Gordon.”

“Morning, Ed.”

He´s rewarded with one of Ed´s smiles, while Harvey rolls his eyes and stares pointedly at the Captain.

“So nice of you to join us, Detective.”

“The pleasure is all mine.”, Jim retorts. Harvey snorts. Ed watches. The captain hands him a file. Business as usual.

 

\-------------------------------

 

“Why drugs?”

“Well, there **_was_** a media hype regarding Viper, wasn´t there? Though this drug isn´t nearly as fascinating.”

“Yeah, Ed, I get it. It doesn´t turn people into goo.”

“Yes, Detective Bullock. Although Viper…”

“Yeah, we know. ´goo´ isn´t a scientific term. But it´s something we understand.”, groans Jim. Drugs and goo, and he hadn´t even had breakfast yet.

“So we have drugs and dead people but it´s less slimy than the last time.”, states Harvey. “Sounds like a piece of cake.”

Cake is the last thing Jim wants to think about at the moment. He skims through the file and falters. Three junkies, two middle-class family fathers, a woman who worked as a maid for a rich couple, a firefighter on vacation in the city and now one of Gotham´s high society members. The guy wasn´t working up or down the social ladder, didn´t target exclusively one gender and other than the drugs in their systems there were no similarities. Even the cause of death ranged from drowning to being stabbed to a gunshot wound in the head.

“Are we **_sure_** it´s the same perp?”

“The captain certainly thinks so.”

“And you?”

“ ** _I_** won´t argue with her.”

“You always argue with her.”

Harvey throws him an annoyed look. “Well, I won´t argue with the mayor.”

Oh. So these were most likely not the only victims.

“Do we know how many men Falcone lost?”, Jim asks. Not that he particularly cares what happens to these criminals, but still. He wants them in jail, not dead.

 

\----------------------------------

 

Fish still doesn´t like him, but at least she´s willing to talk to Harvey again. They waste a few minutes with small talk, while Jim has a starring match with Butch and loses, then they leave with rumors and the location of a few places to check out. It seems to take the loss of at least four men and two weeks to get Falcone to pass the work of finding the perp on to the proper authorities. If the mob can´t find them, how the hell should they? Maybe it´s just a test. **_Again._** At least he isn´t expected to put a bullet in the brain of another guy. Not yet, that is.

When they leave, the rain has doubled in strength and Jim seriously considers just straight up stealing Bullocks hat, because the water is running down his neck and dripping past his collar, and Harvey, the smug bastard, just smirks when he shudders and tries to pull his shoulders just a bit higher. It´s absurd, how often it rains in this city. Water pouring down on everyone, no matter who they are, who they are going to be. It´s his home, and he so desperately wants to cure this sick city. Though it seems it just wants him to catch a cold… They duck into their car and Jim sighs. They have no leads, just victims. He can´t even see a pattern.

“Do you think Ed managed to isolate the components of the drug?”, he asks his partner.

“How the hell would I know?!”

Yeah, right. Stupid question.

 

\-------------------------------

 

It turns out that yes, Ed managed to do his work. It just doesn´t help them much. The victims had a mix of hallucinogenic drugs and sedatives in their blood streams, all stuff you could get easily on the streets, at least in a city like Gotham.

“Do we know how long it takes, until it knocks them out? Could they have caused a scene before they were affected?”

“I suppose. However, that´s not the question we should be asking.”

“Oh? Really?”

“Yes, Detective Bullock. I, for my part, am left to wonder why nobody seemed to notice any of the twelve kidnappings.”

“Kidnappings? Who would kidnap a bunch of junkies?”

“It isn´t really my job to know this, is it, Detective? Since none of the victims were killed where we found them, I consider it at least a valid conclusion.”

“Can you look for any traces of possible surveillance?”, Jim interrupts them and looks at Ed. He should be able to.

“I can and I will, Detective.”, he retorts and vanishes back to his office. Or wherever the hell he normally works, when he doesn´t have his arm in a corpse.

“Are you coming, kid?”

Jim groans and stands up. Hell, what does he care about the damn Flood going on outside. There´s a murderer on the loose. Probably sitting inside a nice, cozy house, while they run around and question hookers. When they find the guy, he´s going to punch him extra hard.

***


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter; I hope you´ll like it.
> 
> Please leave some feedback, if you have time. :)

***

He hears voices.

Murmur indistinguishable from his thoughts, crashing over him in waves like someone messing with the channels on a radio. They don´t make sense, or maybe he doesn´t make sense, and he wants to say so. Get them to become clearer, purer like the colours that fill his vision, but he thinks that´s what they want him to do. Talk to them, that is. And if there´s something that he won´t do, something that goes completely against his personality and everything he hopes to achieve, it´s to conform to the likes of lesser men without knowing for sure that he will gain something.

So he keeps quiet, doesn´t let the words and screams spill out, and grits his teeth. He won´t give them anything. He´s good at sabotaging plans. Besides, if he decides to talk, he´s sure he won´t be able to stop.

And so he doesn´t make a sound when the first punch lands on his face. The pain is sharper than he expected but it´s nothing compared to his leg during the first week after his “death”. Another punch. And another. He closes his eyes and smiles when they start to scream at him.

 

\--------------------------

 

Mooney´s rumors turn out to be dead ends; but thank god, they´ve got Ed.

They now have footage of two kidnappings. A grey van with a forged license plate stopped next to the victims, a man in a hoodie stabbing them in the neck with something they conclude must be a needle and then dragging them into the vehicle, which drives off. No clear view of the faces, no luck tracking the car through other surveillance cameras. The only info all this work gained them was the knowledge that they were searching for a team. Two crazy guys on the loose.

“Back on the streets?”, Jim suggests. Otherwise they´ve hit a dead end again.

“Back on the streets, kid.”, Harvey repeats and shrugs on his jacket. Maybe this time they´re lucky.

 

\---------------------------

 

“Thanks sweetie. That´s for your efforts.”

Jim just rolls his eyes as the money changes hands and Harvey leans closer to the women to kiss her on the cheek. It´s the eighth one they questioned up until now and he had already watched Harvey flirt enough times to last a lifetime. To be honest, even the first time had been more than he had ever wanted to witness and that had been before he showed up in Jim´s, no, **_Barbara´s_** apartment with a prostitute. Well, and there were the memories again. Great.

“Jim? Are you listening?” His partner is sitting next to him again, staring at him expectantly. Jim snaps out of his thoughts.

“Yeah, yeah, I´m listening. What did she say?”

“Grey van, three guys. She saw them.”

“ ** _Three_** guys?”

“Yeah. Two in black hoodies, one screaming in the back.”

“And she thought nothing of it?”

This earns him an incredulous look from Harvey.

“In what city have you been living, kid?”

He has a point.

 

\-----------------------------------

 

With the new info they are able to track down the place where the perps got the van. It´s an old building near the docks, one of many empty warehouses by the river. Jim can see the pier where he was supposed to shot Oswald Cobblepot and managed to make his life so much more complicated. He follows Harvey out of the car and to the first warehouse, which looks somewhat promising with its covered windows and badly concealed security cameras. Jim scoffs. They should know better than to be this sloppy, since everybody would get suspicious regarding that level of security on an empty house. Pity the mob wasn´t like that.

“Okay, let´s try it the nice way first, alright, Harvey?”

“Yeah, yeah. I know how to do my job.”

“Still. First we talk. Then you can do what you want.”

“Since when are you my boss?”

“I´m just saying. No offence.”

Harvey throws him an annoyed look and pulls the door to the building open. It´s dim and stuffy inside, lined with various cars on the right and a desk, a few storage racks and a makeshift workshop on the left. A tired looking man is hunched over the table, typing away on a typewriter. He doesn´t hear or see them come in and startles when Jim stands in front of him and clears his throat.

“I am looking for a car. A van preferably.”, Jim says with an easy smile. The man looks pointedly to Harvey.

“Oh, I´m with him.”, Harvey states. The guy turns his attention back towards Jim.

“Wanna buy or rent?”

“Rent. We´ve got to vanish for a while. Got something for that?”

“You don´t look like you are in trouble…”

“That´s something we have to decide for ourselves.”, Harvey interjects sharply.

“Whoa, chill. Just asking. I´ve got to talk to the boss first, anyway.”

“And where´s your boss?”

“Don´t know. Should be here any moment, though.”

“Is it okay, if we look around in the meantime?”, Jim asks and gestures to the cars. The man nods and goes back to typing.

Bullock is already by the first van, which just so happens to be grey.

“Let´s take a look, shall we, Jim-bo? After all, we wanna see if there´s enough room for some action.” Harvey winks at him and Jim shudders. There are the memories from before again. Just what he needs.

“Well then, go on.”, he prompts and rolls his eyes, smiling tightly.

“Love it when you let me take control like that.”

“I hate you.”

“Ah, don´t be like that, Jimmy-boy.”

By now, they are getting strange looks and Jim finally opens the van´s back door.

 

\--------------------------------

 

“I don´t think faint bloodstains are part of the interior design…”

“Really? What tipped you off?”, Harvey asks dryly. There are a few traces of blood still visible at the edge where floor meets wall, as well as on the middle of the floor. Seems like they hadn´t heard of bleach or basic covering of tracks.

“We should get Ed here.”, Jim mumbles. There´s the sound of the front door opening behind them, along with footsteps.

“Marino, what the fuck is the police doing here?!”

Well, shit.

***


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New chapter!   
> (I have no idea how to write Maroni... T.T)
> 
> Again, if you´ve got time please leave some feedback.  
> (And thanks to everyone who did. It made me very happy. ^.^)

***

“Police, boss?”, the young man answers confused.

“Yes, Marino, police, you fucking idiot. They were even all across the news and you still couldn´t recognize them?!”, an older man in a suit screams. Must be the owner of this fine company.

„Sir? GCPD. May we have a word with you?”, Jim asks, interrupting the guy. Which he doesn´t seem to like. At all. At least if the gun he draws and points at him and Harvey is any indication. Fortunately, the backdoors of the van are still open and they can lunge behind them for shelter as the first bullets rain down on them.

“You´re attacking a police officer. Hold fire! Now!”

The bullets keep coming.

“I don´t think he cares, you know.”, Harvey quips.

“Well, **_thank you_**.”, Jim responds and pulls Harvey along as he slinks more behind the car, putting it squarely between them and the shooter.

“It´s your turn to play bait, kiddo.”

“Then you better get him before he gets me. I´m too handsome to die.”

Harvey scoffs and edges closer to the front of the van, while Jim gets back to the back.

“Sir, for the last time, hold the fire or I will fire back!” The gunshots continue. Jim rolls his eyes.

 

\-------------------------------

 

“THEY SHOT ME!”

“ ** _We_** didn´t. Harvey did.”

“Well, thanks, **_partner_**.”

“Stop it, both of you.”, Captain Essen groans.

“THEY SHOT ME! That´s police brutality!”

“And for god´s sake, can someone shut the guy up!”, she shouts.Immediately, it gets quieter outside. She sits down and leans back in her chair, pleased. “Now, tell me what you´ve got. And hope that I like it.”

Jim looks at Harvey. Harvey looks out of the window. Ed looks in through the glass wall. Jim sighs. And starts talking. Someone has to do it. Might as well be him.

 

\-------------------------------

 

“Alvarez! You´ve got a moment?“

“What is it now, Gordon!? **_Some_** of us have actual work to do.”

“Yeah, we´ve got work, too. Important work. Exciting work. Work you can help us with.“, Harvey explains.

“Not interested.”

“Oh, come on! We need someone undercover. And you´re great with this stuff.”

“In case it escaped your notice, Gordon, I´m in homicide, not undercover. Talk to someone else.”

“It´s a homicide case!“

“Then do it yourself.”

“Can´t. Faces were all over the news, remember?“, Jim says, rolling his eyes.

“Must be tough, being heroes.”, Alvarez counters.

“Ha ha, really funny. Come on, or do you really wanna be stuck here doing paperwork? Do us a favor, and Jim will write your reports.”

“Harvey, that’s-“

“For an entire month?”

“No, I-“

“Yeah. Deal?“, asks Harvey and holds out his hand.

“Deal.”, answers Alvarez and takes it.

Jim groans and plans to one day murder Harvey in the bloodiest, most painful way imaginable.

 

\------------------------

 

“Ah, Jim! A word, please!“

Jim spins around and almost drops his coffee. There´s Don Maroni standing behind him, in the police station, wanting to talk. He curses his luck. Not that there´s much left to curse. He´s got the feeling that he has run out of luck the moment he got Harvey as his partner. But he´s spacing out. Maroni stares at him, expectant, and Jim clears his throat.

“Sure. How can I help you?“, he asks, smiling tightly. Harvey and Alvarez pretend to be busy. Just wonderful, having such helpful and loyal colleagues.

“I´m missing one of my monkeys.”, Maroni answers. What?

“What?”

“No, not a monkey. A penguin.“

“Did you purchase a zoo?” Jim´s confused.

“No. What are you talking about?!“

“Nothing, just… What is going on?”, Jim asks wearily.

“My restaurant manager went missing some six hours ago. Find him.” That was a clearer answer. Wait, what?

“Cobblepot is missing?”

“Yes, I just said that. You better find him, Detective. I don´t like losing a goldmine.” With that, Don Maroni is gone again. Jim is so fucked. He´s got to work a murder case, he can´t search for a random criminal in this huge fucking city without information or even the smallest lead. But Cobblepot´s not just a random criminal, is he? Who knows what he´s up to without someone keeping an eye on him. What is a member of the mob even doing in his free time? Stealing from girl scouts? Tripping random people up on the streets? Is that regarded as entertaining?

“Hey! Earth to Jim!“

Jim blinks. Harvey is beside him again, snipping his fingers in front of Jim´s face.

“Yeah?”

“We´re ready. Alvarez says he got it.“

“I´m not just saying it. The plan´s easy. I´m just sitting around waiting. Just because you can´t do it…”

“We _could_ do it. We just **can´t** do it.”

“Keep telling yourself that, Bullock.”

 

\------------------------------

 

“He won´t talk. Why won´t he talk?“

“How should I know?”

“You’re the self-proclaimed genius, aren´t ya?”

“I am! Who came up with everything? I did! You just got us a car.”

“It was a good car.”

“That´s not even the point!”

“Stop yelling at me!”

“You started it!”

He groans quietly. Why does he have to get kidnapped by two complete idiots? He´s slightly offended that whoever hired these guys didn´t deem him important enough for professionals. However, he´s mostly thankful for the dispute since the two seem to have forgotten him for now. His senses are getting clearer by the second.

There´s a needle in his arm, he can feel it now, connected to an – now empty – IV. So he had been drugged, a continuous flow directly into his vein, and they were too distracted to notice that the bag had run out of content. His muscles have stiffened from strain, stress, and sitting for so long without moving freely. His damaged leg aches, more the longer the substance in his blood – whatever the hell it is – has time to dissipate, and the skin around the needle burns. He´s bound – with duct tape, it´s always duct tape, have they really no respect for his clothes? - to a chair by his wrists, upper arms, thighs and ankles; his arms and legs bend at uncomfortable angles. Which doesn´t help with the pain at all.

He starts to move his right arm slowly, the one that hurts less, and tries to loosen the restraints. Without much success. The pain gets worse by the minute and the two people still screaming at each other aren´t helping, either. He bites his lip to silence any sound that may escape him, not wanting them to remember him, and continues to try. He´s nothing if not determined.

***


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who left a comment or kudos. I was very happy to see it. ^.^  
> Anyway, new chapter. I hope you´ll enjoy it.

***

“We gotta get rid of him.”

“But he didn´t spill anything. We won´t get paid!”

“That´s the problem. If he doesn´t talk, he´s worthless. And if not even the drug worked, we can just as well just kill him, dump him somewhere, and make something up to tell our ´bosses´. Then we can move on to the next job. Easy.”

“I don´t think so.”

“Well, I do. And I´m the boss.”

A sigh. “Yeah, yeah, okay. What do you want me to do?“

“Get us a van. We´ll finish him off like the others.”

“Got it. I´ll be back in an hour, tops. You´ve got everything under control?”

“Do I look stupid? Besides, he hasn´t moved in at least half an hour. The guy´s out. Won´t cause trouble.”

Both men fail to notice the faint movements of the very much awake person across the room.

 

\----------------------------

 

“God, why did I agree to this?”

“Stop shouting, Alvarez. Somebody could hear you.”, Harvey replies. He and Jim are sitting behind one of the lowered cars on the ground, where the chance of someone seeing them from the entrance is fairly low. The concrete is hard and cold and uncomfortable and Jim really doesn´t like sitting there. He had already had enough of it an hour ago.

“I´m not even shouting, Bullock. I´m speaking softly. You just think it´s loud because it´s so quiet in here. And why is that? Oh yeah, because not even a fucking single person showed up and we´re just sitting here on our asses while there are papers piling up on my desk and cases to solve.”

“We´re so sorry that you have to sit on a comfy chair and do nothing. Must be really tough.”

“Stop sassing me, Bullock.”

“Then quit whining.”

“Could you please stop it? We´re trying to catch a murderer, after all.”, Jim chimes in. Grumbling, the two manage eventually to shut up. Jim rubs his temple. He can feel a headache coming.

Ten minutes later, Harvey starts humming.

“You have a terrible music taste, did anyone ever tell you that?”, Alvarez asks. Harvey ignores him and continues, even getting a little louder. Jim face palms.

 

\----------------

 

There´s a noise at the door. Jim covers Harvey´s mouth with his hand, ignoring the disgruntled look his partner throws him. Not a second later, the door opens and a man with short black hair in his forties enters the building. Alvarez straightens in his chair. The man looks around wary, then approaches him.

“Can I help you?”, Alvarez asks with a bored expression. At least he´s in character. Nobody would be excited about having a job like this. Besides maybe Harvey. Sitting around and doing nothing is what he does most of the time.

“You´re new.” The man looks suspicious.

“Yeah. Marino had a run in with the wrong people. So I got his shift. I´m afraid you have to deal with it or leave. Now, what do you want?” Alvarez rifles through some papers on his desk, disinterested. Jim and Harvey hold their breathes. Harvey even ignores the hand Jim has still over his mouth.

“Yeah, okay. It´s just… I´ve always ever dealt with Marino.“, the guy explains. Alvarez nods.

“What do you need?”

“A grey van.”

“That´s very specific.”

“It´s an unsuspicious color.”

“Right. Well, I´m afraid you have to settle for another type of car or another color.”

“But I need the van! We need the space! And Marino assured me he would reserve it for me. It´s the one I always take!”

“Sorry, that one was present during Marino´s little run in. Has now extra ventilation in the back. Bullet holes.” Alvarez shrugs. “Come on, just settle for another color.“

The man hesitates. “Yeah, alright.”

“Good.” Alvarez gets up from the chair. “I´ll show you our other vans.” He leads the man all the way to the back row, past Jim and Harvey who sneak out through the still open front door to their car.

Five minutes later, the gate next to the entrance door opens and a white van drives through. They give chase.

 

\---------------------

 

“What did Maroni even want, by the way? You never said.”, Harvey asks Jim while they wait at a red light. The van is two cars in front of them.

“Cobblepot´s gone missing. Maroni wants me to find him.”

“Doesn´t want to lose someone who´s willing to snitch on Fish. I doubt he would care otherwise.”

“Yeah, most likely. Maroni didn´t even bother to give me any kind of information, and how the hell am I going to find one guy in the whole city without any clues if Maroni´s guys couldn´t track him down? And if he´s hiding, I´ve got no chance; what with the connections he most likely has by now.”, Jim responds and rubs his eyes. He´s tired. He had hoped to be able to get a full night of sleep for once, now that they´ve got a promising lead, but it seems like he´ll most likely look through surveillance videos instead of going home.

The traffic light springs to green. They continue to follow the van for another fifteen minutes, during which they take more turns than should be possible, before it stops in front of an abandoned building. They park on the other side of the street, putting some distance between them. Jim and Harvey wait until the man leaves the van and enters the building, then they cross the road. Jim checks the van. It´s unlocked, so he opens the doors. The key is still in the ignition. Jim takes it. They don´t deserve a getaway car, if one of them is dumb enough to leave the keys.

Harvey draws his weapon and nods to Jim, who follows suit. Then he slowly opens the front door of the building.

 

\----------------------

 

He almost curses. He can´t hide the shivers anymore that shake his body and god, how can the pain even get any worse? It should be impossible by now, really. The tape on his wrist still makes it impossible for him to reach his knife; it just won´t loosen.

He has to fight just to stay conscious. It´s hilarious, when he thinks about it. He managed to betray Fish Mooney, managed to escape certain death – thanks to Jim Gordon – and to come back to Gotham. He even got near Maroni and now he´s being held captive by two **_idiots_** who will most likely be his end. What will his dear mother think if he doesn´t come back? He hopes she won´t assume again that he just ran off. He would never do that to her. Besides, there´s nowhere he would go. Gotham is his home. And now he will die in his city before it had the chance to be truly his. Such a shame.

If Jim will miss him? That´s another hilarious thought. Jim most likely won´t even notice that he´s gone. Or he will be glad that there´s one criminal less to annoy him. Well, at least he tried to be a good friend to Jim. Maybe he even tried a little too hard. It doesn´t matter anymore.

The front door opens and closes as his second captor enters the building again and walks over to his partner, who is seated at a table scribbling on a piece of paper and sometimes tampering with chemicals. He stops writing and looks up.

“You´re late.”, he states, sounding angry.

“Well, I´m here now, aren´t I?”

The door is slowly being pushed open again, what the two don´t even seem to notice since they´re locked in a staring contest. One angry, the other sullen. That´s also the reason they miss the two persons carefully advancing further into the room.

***


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New chapter!  
> I hope you´ll enjoy it. ^.^  
> Finally, some interaction between Oswald, Harvey and Jim...
> 
> As always, if you have the time please leave some feedback.

***

It happens far too fast for either of the two men to do more than spin around. They´re handcuffed and on the floor in a matter of seconds without knowing what the hell hit them.

“GCPD! You´re under arrest. You have the right to remain silent and I would prefer if you made use of it.”, Detective Bullock informs them while Jim looks around and only now notices the person across the room.

“Oh god, what the fuck are you doing here?” That had to be a rhetorical question since Jim doesn´t even wait for an answer, instead looking around frantically for something sharp enough to cut through tape. Good. He´s seconds away from either passing out or screaming. Both options would be unpleasant and he would like to avoid them.

“Seems like you don´t have to work your ass off for Maroni, after all. You found Cobblepot. Maybe not intentionally, but whatever.”, Bullock comments. Oswald throws him a look that he hopes will shut him up. He really can´t deal with this right now.

Finally, Jim´s by his side and removes his makeshift restraints. He hisses when he tries to remove the damn IV himself because Jim is just too damn slow and he has to get out of there before his body decides fuck it, I´m shutting down.

“Hey, hey, easy! Slow down!”, Jim says and grabs his arm, steadying him, then removing the needle with more care than Oswald would have thought him capable of. “Okay. It´s gone now, okay? You can calm down. Calm down.“

He wasn´t even aware that he´s hyperventilating until now. He tries to slow his breathing down, but with little success. Oh, and Jim seems to talk to him again. He tries to concentrate on the words but it takes him an embarrassingly long time to make sense of them.

“W-what?”

“I said: Can you stand?” Jim´s voice is soft. Maybe he does care. God, now he´s getting ridiculous. He nods shakily and tries to get up. His muscles protest immediately and he gasps before gritting his teeth.

“I´ve got you, okay? I´ve got you.”, Jim reassures him, still holding onto his arm and now pulling him up gently. He scrambles for support, clutching at Jim´s jacket and cursing himself for not even being able to get up and walk out on his own.

“You two are sweet, really, but can we get out of here already? What´s the matter with him anyway?”, Bullock asks impatiently.

“Did you seriously forget about the drug aspect of the whole case?”

“Nah. Just figured drugs should make you all happy and hyper.”

“Well, it seems this one doesn´t. Did you call for backup?”

“Sure. What do you think I was doing while you started groping him?”

Jim rolls his eyes and tries to shift, to take more of Oswald´s weight and get his arm over his shoulder, which is easier said than done since Oswald makes no move to release the death grip he has on Jim.

“Okay, get over here.”, Jim orders. Harvey throws him a wary look. He sighs. “Look, I know you don´t like him, but we can´t just leave him like this. Besides, Maroni will kill me if he doesn´t get him back. So please. Just help me to get him in the car.”

Reluctantly, Harvey complies.

 

\--------------------

 

“So… What now?”, Harvey asks when they are in the car again; Jim with Cobblepot in the back seat, just in case.

“We got to give the Captain our statements.”

“Yeah, kid, I know that. I meant him.” He nods to Cobblepot. The man is shaking violently, breaking out into a sweat, eyes glazed over. Jim looks him over, concerned.

“I can´t drop him off with Maroni like that. And I don´t know if a hospital would be safe. Does Falcone still want him dead? God, I don´t know.”, Jim sighs and rubs his hand over his eyes.

“Well… I´m going back to the station; sort everything out. I guess the victim got away after we handcuffed the perps. The case is still closed; we have enough to charge them. Happy end for me. Cobblepot´s your problem.“

“Yeah. Thanks, Harvey. I´ll figure something out.“, Jim answers. They drive in silence for a while, until Cobblepot stirs. He presses himself against the door, looking panicked. Jim tentatively reaches out to him but stops when Oswald grabs his hand.

“J-Jim? What… What are you doing here?! Falcone said you would be safe, he wouldn´t hurt you. He- I- he **_promised_** me!”

“Promised you?” Jim´s confused.

“We made a deal! He has to let you go. You have to go!” Oswald is bordering on hysterical now, his grip on Jim way to tight. Harvey throws Jim a disbelieving look.

“Hey, it´s okay. I will go. Everything´s alright. Okay?“ Jim has no idea what he´s doing, but it seems reassuring Oswald has at least the desired effect. The other man stares intently at him for a few seconds, nods and releases his grip. Then he´s out cold.

“What the hell was that?”, Harvey asks, bewildered.

“I have no idea. But I think he may have tried to safe my life somewhere along the line.”

 

\-----------------------

 

Harvey parks in front of the police station and stops the engine.

“You sure you´re good?”, he asks, concerned. Well, as concerned as Harvey gets.

“Why, Harvey, you almost sound like you care.”, Jim deadpans. They had this conversation already, goddammit.

“Nah. Just asking. I mean I don´t mind covering for you, but you know… May be easier if your friend there wound up in a ditch like he was supposed to. I´m sure I could arrange something.”

“And when he´s dead, then what? Everything´s back to normal, with Fish gaining more power? Maroni killing me, because, hey, he just lost an informant? Another criminal, one we don´t know, taking his spot? That´s not a solution. I- I just don´t want any more dead people, criminals or not.”

“Yeah, okay.”

“What?” It´s not like Harvey to give in so easily. Jim anticipated a bit more… words. Or swears. Anything.

“I understand.”

“You do?”

“Yeah. Just… Don´t expect that your decision will change him, or Gotham. You try so hard to be a knight in shining armor, to save everyone in a city beyond saving. Gotham´s golden rule, kid: No heroes. Just remember that.”

“Maybe I can change the rules.”

“It will come back to bite you in the ass. Mark my words.”

“Whatever, old man.”, Jim counters. Harvey actually looks offended.

“I hope you fall down some stairs.“, Harvey replies and gets out of the car. “Seriously, Jim. He´s dangerous. Watch your back.“, he ads before he slams the driver´s door closed and saunters into the station. Jim sighs. And now? He´s fucked.

***


	6. Chapter 6

***

He parks the car in the underground garage of the building where Barbara´s apartment is located. She´s still out of town, safe with her parents, and he doesn’t want to risk Maroni or Cobblepot knowing too much about his own home. Half of Gotham already knows that he sleeps here, or used to anyway. Besides, the building´s got an elevator and he´s glad that he doesn´t have to carry Cobblepot up the staircase, since the other man doesn´t look like he can walk properly right now, let alone take the stairs.

Jim turns around in his seat. Cobbelpot is still shivering, hair a mess – well, more than usual, and that´s saying something – and clothes crumbled. He´s even paler than normal and sweats like he just run a marathon. He doesn´t look good.

“Hey. Come on, wake up.“ Jim keeps his voice soft, doesn´t want to cause another scene like the one before in the car, and Oswald opens his eyes.

“Where are we?”, he asks, voice scratchy.

“My apartment. Well, in the garage under the building. We´re safe.”

“Thank you. For saving my life again a-and not leaving me somewhere in the gutter. I owe you again.”

“So you heard Harvey.”

“He- he´s right, you know.” The words are nothing more than a whisper, and Jim wonders for a second if he didn´t just imagine them. He clears his throat.

“Not up for discussion.” He climbs out of the car and opens the side door so Oswald can get out.

“We got to get you upstairs. Can you walk?”, he asks.

“Yes. Just- just a moment.” Oswald takes a deep breath and closes his eyes.

“Everything okay?”

“The world is spinning, that- that´s all.” He still doesn´t move.

“Right.” Jim takes Oswald´s arm and pulls him as gently as possible out of the car. The man hisses, gripping Jim´s jacket again. “Shit, I´m sorry.”

“It´s o-okay. Just h-hurts.” The shaking is even worse now. Jim really hopes that Oswald doesn´t pass out again. He manages to close the door and lock the car, all the while holding the other man up with one arm around his waist.

“What hurts?” He just has to keep the other man talking. Oswald lets out a short laugh, which – if Jim didn´t know any better – could almost be a sob.

“Everything. God, I- I can feel **_everything_**.”, he answers. His pupils are dilated, almost erasing the color around it, due to pain or the drugs; Jim doesn´t know. Not that it matters right now.

“Okay, okay, just breath and try to stay upright. The elevator is right over there. Think you can do it?”

“I´m not **_dead_** , Jim. Walking´s easy.”

Despite his words, Jim carries Oswald more than he moves forward on his own. If someone had asked Jim in the morning how he thought his evening would be, he wouldn´t have pictured himself on the way to Barbara´s apartment with a criminal plastered against his side.

 

\-----------------------

 

“Okay, um… You wanna lie down? I honestly don´t really know what to do. Should I phone someone?”, Jim asks as soon as he manages to shut the front door of the apartment behind them. Maybe he should have consulted a doctor – or even Ed – before coming here. Oswald seems slightly amused; well, as amused as someone who looks like death warmed over and whose shaking can compete with an light earthquake can be.

“Yes, I- No. Bathroom. Now.“ Oh god, no.

Jim doesn´t even hesitate, which was probably a good idea seeing as they reach the bathroom just in time for Oswald to start violently throwing up into the toilet.

“Um… I´ll get you… a glass. And see if I can find you a change of clothes. Okay?”, Jim asks nervously from his spot in the doorway, looking at a point straight ahead of himself. The thought of looking at Oswald feels wrong, like he hasn´t the right to see him like this. Which is ridiculous. Still, he stays put and stares at the wall until the other man makes a sound, which Jim interprets as approving, then goes and roams through his closet and makes a short stop in the kitchen. When he gets back, Oswald is still on the floor, leaning against the wall, eyes closed.

“Feeling better?“ Jim sets the clothes on the counter beside the sink, then fills the glass with water and hands it to Oswald.

“No.”

For a while there´s silence, with Jim awkwardly standing in the doorway and feeling like an intruder and Oswald slowly sipping his water, which seems to require a lot of concentration judging by the way he squints at the glass and the tremors that still haven´t let up.

“Anything I can do for you?”

“Yes. Take my shirt off.”

“What?!” Did he just stumble into bad porn? Jim mentally slaps himself at the thought. Oswald is most likely still high and-

“Can´t get the buttons open. Hands are shaking too much.” Oh. Jim resists the urge to bang his head against the wall. He must be way more tired than he thought.

“Yeah. Sure. Can you get up for this or-“

“Yes. Just give me a hand.”

 

\--------------------

 

He leaves Oswald in the bathroom so the other man can get changed and pours himself a drink. Maybe drinking isn´t a wise choice in this situation but fuck it. He needs this. He takes of his jacket, looses his tie and slumps on the couch. Ten minutes later he´s getting restless, since he´s still alone in the living room and he hasn´t heard anything from Oswald. God, he hopes the guy hasn´t died. That would be just what he needed. Abruptly, he gets up and decides – better safe than sorry – to check in on the criminal in his bathroom. Maybe he should be worried that he doesn´t even find that thought weird anymore.

Oswald is sitting on the floor again, scowling at the door. At least he managed to actually put on the t-shirt and sweatpants Jim gave him.

“Do you need help? You could have just called me, you know.”, Jim asks.

“I planned to. Sit, I mean.“

„Of course. Anyway, do you wanna relocate to the living room?” He receives a short, shaky nod as an answer.

“Okay.” Jim crouches down and takes hold of Oswald´s upper arms and starts to gently pull him up, cringing when the other man hisses again. “Sorry.”

“I-It´s alright. Had worse.” That´s not something Jim wants to think about.

Getting to the living room is easier than getting to the elevator was, seeing as Oswald even takes a few actual steps this time. Jim unloads him onto the couch and Oswald barely bites back a groan.

“Fuck, sorry. Anything I can do?”

“You´re repeating yourself.”

“I know.”

“I´m not mortally wounded. Just feeling… more. Fabric on skin hurts.“, Oswald mumbles. His eyes are closed and he´s curled in on himself as much as his damaged leg allows.

“Painkillers?”

“Trying to kill me, Detective?”, Oswald inquires shakily. Right, unknown interactions. Okay, Jim really should think before he talks. He shrugs. Not that the other can see him.

“Never mind. Tell me if you need anything, okay?“

Oswald makes a noise, which Jim interprets as agreement. He sighs. This is going to be a fun night…

***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, if you have the time please leave some feedback. ^.^
> 
>  
> 
> (Also, since I´m not in the drug business, I´ve no idea how drugs work. So, no medical accuracy involved in the making of this chapter. ^.^)


	7. Chapter 7

***

He glances at his watch. It´s already past midnight and he´s still in his work clothes; he didn´t even put away his gun. He gets up, ignoring the pins and needles in his arm, and goes to the kitchen to fetch himself some water. Maybe he should wake Oswald, checking how he´s doing, lest he has fallen into a coma or something like that. Jim doesn´t know what this experimental drug can do to a person, but he can think of more pleasant things than a dead gangster in his apartment. Besides, he doesn´t really want Oswald dead. Just wants him to stop murdering or stealing or beating people up. But if he has to choose between Oswald and Fish Mooney, he would always go with the former. The devil you know and all that crap.

When he gets back to the living room, Oswald is still sleeping, slight tremors coursing through his body. He looks more alive than before, at least. Jim bends down and gently taps his shoulder. Oswald stiffens instantly, holding his breath. Probably doesn´t know where he is, too.

“Hey, it´s just me. How are you holding up?”, Jim asks quietly, trying to sound as harmless as possible. The last thing he needs is the other man panicking and injuring one or both of them. Oswald slowly opens his eyes.

“Never felt better.”, Oswald answers sarcastically, voice scratchy.

“You still sound like shit.”

“And you are charming as always, Detective.”

Jim smiles. “Just wanted to check if you are alive. Go back to sleep.”

 

\---------------------

 

When he wakes up for the second time, his couch is empty. It´s weird that that´s the first thing he notices, and not the fact that his phone is on the couch table – he definitely didn´t put it there – or the blanket over his shoulders – which he also didn´t put there – or the note right beside his phone. The clothes he gave Oswald the night before are neatly folded on the couch. The man himself is gone.

Jim groans and cracks his neck. He really should stop sleeping sitting upright, that´s something he´s unfortunately getting too old for. He reaches for the note and opens it. It´s a simple ´thank you´, an apology for leaving abruptly and for being an inconvenience. Jim frowns. The guy was drugged and kidnapped and, judging by the bruises which appeared during the night, beaten, and he thinks he´s an inconvenience? If that isn´t a sign that Oswald has issues – well, more than he already was aware of – then Jim doesn´t know what is.

He sits there for a while, staring of into space, until his phone rings. He almost expects Oswald to call him, because – seriously - running off after a day and night like this had been a remarkably bad idea. He has no idea what to say to the other man, but it turns out that he doesn´t have to think of something. Because it isn´t Oswald. It´s Harvey.

“Hey, Jim-bo. Hope you slept well.“ Harvey sounds way to cheery for this time of day.

“Yes, thank you. Hope you had fun doing paperwork.”

“Really funny, kid. No knife in any of your body parts? Still got all of your blood? How´s your furniture?”, Harvey asks with so clearly faked concern that Jim has to roll his eyes.

“He didn´t stab me, if that´s what you mean.”

“Really? You didn´t even get sex out of the whole thing. You poor soul.”

Jim almost chokes on his own spit. “What the fuck, Harvey?!”

“What? Just teasing you. Where´s Cobblepot, by the way?”

“Gone. Most likely back with Maroni, doing whatever the hell he normally does.”

“Oh.”

“What about our two perps?”, Jim asks, changing the topic.

“Still with us. They get transferred to Blackgate in the afternoon.”

“Good. Anything else?“

“Yeah. Get your ass to the station. Captain wants to see you. She just got back from a meeting with the mayor. She doesn´t look too pissed. Seems like Falcone is content.”

“Thank god. Did you interrogate our guests? Got an idea what they were after?”

“Secrets. Seems like they were paid to get information out of their victims. That´s what the drug was for. Get them talking.”

“And Cobblepot didn´t want to play along.”

“Looks like it.”, Harvey confirms. “Now get down to the station, Jim. We can continue this lovely talk once you´re here.”

“Yeah. I´ll be there in half an hour.”, Jim replies and hangs up.

 

\-----------------------

 

After the shortest shower of his life and no breakfast, Jim still arrives at the police station ten minutes too late. The traffic had been hell, even more so than usual. All things taken into account, Jim is rightfully pissed off when he drops down onto his chair.

“Morning, sunshine.”, Harvey greets him, without looking up from his newspaper. There are several empty coffee cups on his desk.

“Did you pull an all nighter?”

“Yep.”

“Caffeine high?“

“Maybe. Doesn´t matter.”

“Don´t come and complain to me, if you have to throw up.”

“I´m stronger than that, kid.”

“Whatever you say. Where´s the Captain, by the way?”, Jim asks, nodding his head towards the empty office. “I thought she wanted to see me?”

“She did. Then she went to talk to Ed. Haven´t seen her since.”

“New case?”

“Aftermath of one. Why do you think I´m still here? Because I like the interior so much?”

“Just assumed you love your job. Please don´t tell me you don´t.” Jim leans back in mock shock.

Harvey snorts. “You´re so funny, Gordon.”

“I know. So, new case? What have we got?“

“Triple homicide. All male, between thirty and forty. Most likely the mob.”, Harvey answers. Jim opens his mouth, but doesn´t have the chance to say anything, because that´s the moment Captain Essen chooses to appear beside his desk.

“Forget it, Harvey. There´s no case.“, she announces. Harvey shrugs and goes back to reading his paper.

“Don´t we have three corpses?”, Jim inquires, refusing to back down.

“We do. Courtesy of an accident.”

“Says who?”

“For one, I´m saying that, Detective.”

“And Falcone.”, Jim assumes. The look Essen throws him is confirmation enough. He sighs. “Harvey said you want to talk to me?”

“Yes. Your last case. The victim got away?”, she asks.

“Yes.” He doesn´t even have to lie for that one.

“How? There were drugs involved, right?”

“Well… Maybe he built up resistance? I don´t know. We were dealing with these two guys, and when we looked again he was gone.”, Jim answers. He can see Harvey slightly shaking his head out of the corner of his eyes. Fuck.

“So the victim was a man? And he escaped from the building? That´s not quite what your partner told me.”

“Oh? Maybe my memories are a bit foggy.”, he offers.

“It doesn´t matter, does it? We have the two perps. And we caught them in the act. Not to mention the fact that one of them admitted repeatedly renting that van to Alvarez. We got them. Case closed.”, Harvey interferes.

“Right.“ Essen nods slowly. “Catch up on your paperwork. Since there´s no new case.” She gives them both a stern look, then disappears into her office. Jim looks at Harvey.

“Hell no. Jim, no. There´s no case. Don´t do this to me.”, Harvey almost begs.

“Harvey. Three men are dead.”

“No.”

“Please.”

“Why don´t you ask your new best friend? After yesterday I´m sure he owes you.”

“You know, that´s actually a good idea.”, Jim retorts. It´s not like he wants to check if Oswald is alright and now has a reason to seek him out; he just really needs help.

“Jim, no. I was just kidding.”, Harvey calls after him, as Jim gets up and heads down the stairs. The younger man stops.

“What are you waiting for, Harvey? Come on!”

“You´ll be the death of me, you know?”, Harvey grumbles. He still follows his partner, though.

***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, sorry for the wait. I hope you enjoyed this chapter. ^.^
> 
> If you have the time please leave some feedback, I would love to hear some thoughts.


	8. Chapter 8

***

When he enters the restaurant, he´s greeted by Don Maroni before he even makes it completely through the door. The man pulls Jim into a crushing – and really awkward – embrace. At least he doesn´t get kissed.

“Detective Gordon, so good to see you.”

“Yes, um… likewise.“

“See? That´s a man who can get a job done.“, Maroni exclaims to his men, who are gathered around a table further in the restaurant. They don´t look too excited. At least, Jim has been released again, and that´s what matters. He steps back two steps, just as a precaution.

“Well… Um… Is Cobblepot around? Needs to… um… make a statement?”, Jim offers, looking around uncertainly.

“Yes, of course. I understand. He should be around here somewhere. Penguin!”, Maroni calls. “Come on, Detective, sit down.”

“Thank you, but maybe it would be better to settle things outside. I would hate to interrupt your business.”, Jim says, gesturing to the regular customers sitting at the other tables. Thankfully, that´s the moment Oswald chooses to make his return.

“Hello, Jim. Can I help you? Only if it´s okay with you, of course, Don Maroni.” He turns to Maroni with a shaky smile. The other man nods, dismissing them.

“Just don´t take too long.”

“We won´t, sir.“, Oswald replies, limping past Maroni and out of the building, Jim behind him. As soon as he´s on the sidewalk, his smile drops.

“What can I do for you and your partner?” So he noticed Harvey in the car. Jim waves his partner over.

“No time for pleasantries?“, Jim asks jokingly.

“I have to make up for the time I lost yesterday. It´s a bit… stressful. So, what do you want?”

“Jim needs help with a case. You look like shit, by the way.”, Harvey interrupts, stopping beside them. Oswald throws him an irritated look. Jim unfortunately has to agree with his partner. There are bruises on Oswald´s jaw and right cheekbone, more noticeable in the sunlight than they were at night, and he has a black eye. His limp is worse and his posture isn´t as upright as usually, too.

“Thanks, Detective. I wish I could say the same about you, but that would be too much flattery.”

“Woah. Your pet is talking back, Jim.“

“What do you want, Jim?”, Oswald asks again, exhausted.

“We have three dead bodies. The Captain doesn´t want us to work it, says there´s no case. Well, Falcone told her there´s no case, that it was an accident.”, Jim explains.

“And you don´t want to let it go.”

“Yes. Members of the mob or not, it´s still murder. Besides, the victims could be Maroni´s guys; you could score some points with him.”

“They weren´t Maroni´s men.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, Jim, I´m sure. But I will still look into it. Do you have any details?”

Jim nods and gestures to Harvey, who repeats everything Ed managed to give him before Captain Essen intervened. It´s not much, and Oswald says so.

“Think you can get us a lead?”

“I´ll get in touch with you. Tomorrow morning, at the earliest.”

“Thank you. I mean it.”, Jim says. At that, Oswald smiles again.

“Anything for a friend.”

 

\------------------------------

 

“You´re awfully sweet to each other, you know?”, Harvey comments as soon as they are back in the car.

“It´s called being civil. You should try it sometime.”

“You were concerned, kid. And don´t look at me like that; I´m a cop, I notice things. What happened between you? Did he declare his undying love for you?”, Harvey asks mockingly.

“No!“

“Oh god, did you?!“

“No! What´s wrong with you?!”

Harvey shrugs and Jim takes a deep breath. He knows that his partner is just trying to get a rise out of him; knows that he should ignore it. However, there´s a tiny part of him that doubts that his actions are as professional as they should be. Oswald considers him a friend; and as absurd as that concept is, Jim likes the thought of someone else out there trying to help him even in this twisted way. Maybe he should – after he has answers regarding his case that isn´t one – keep his distance again. His nerves would appreciate it, for sure.

“Look, can we just drive back to the station? You can get another coffee, which I sincerely hope will kill you, and I can get some work done. Okay?”, Jim asks, defeated.

“Yeah, okay. Couldn´t have known you´d be this sensitive.”, Harvey mumbles, but at least he starts driving. Jim thuds his head against his window and stares outside, watching the city passing by. The sky gets darker by the minute. If Jim had been superstitious he may have taken it as a bad omen.

 

\-----------------------

 

He´s halfway through his paperwork when Alvarez saunters by and dumps a pile of new papers on Jim´s desk. Jim groans and rolls his eyes at his colleague.

“Thank you so much for your help, Gordon. I promise I will make good use of all that free time.”, Alvarez says, smiling brightly.

“You can´t be serious. You made that deal with Harvey.”, Jim protests.

“That´s right. But he won´t do it and I can´t make him. Harvey?”

“Going out with your wife or your girlfriend tonight?”, Harvey asks in return.

Alvarez shrugs and throws Jim a meaningful look. “See? And that´s why I take it out on you.”

“You´re not concerned that I´ll tell on you?”

“Do you know either of them?“

“No.”

“Do you have proof?“

“No. And yes, I see your point.“, Jim answers.

“Good. Well, I hope you two have a nice day. I´m out.”, Alvarez says and takes his leave. Jim stares at his desk, sighs, and takes the first case file off of the mountain seemingly consisting of half the fucking tropical rainforest. No wonder the climate is so fucked up. Maybe that´s the reason for all the rain in Gotham: nature just wants to fuck with them.

He has worked for another hour, mainly trying to decipher Alvarez´s handwriting, when four men stop by his desk. Jim glances up. They wear uniforms identifying them as security guards from Blackgate. Oh yeah, he almost forgot.

“You´re here for the two guys we brought in yesterday, right?”, Jim asks. One of them nods.

“Yes. Can you take us to them? We´re on a tight schedule. And we´ll need a few signatures.”

“Yes, of course. Harvey, can you take them to our friends? I´ll sign the papers.”, Jim answers; Harvey nods and gets up, leading the three other men to the arrest cell.

“Just you four for security?”, Jim asks while he fills the document.

“Four are protocol and more than enough. Don´t worry, Detective, we know how to do our jobs.”, the remaining guard answers, sounding sure of himself.

“I don´t doubt it.”, Jim retorts, giving the man his papers back.

 

\---------------------

 

Jim´s ready to call it a day when they get the news: attack on a prison transport; four guards and a driver injured, the two convicts gone.

He really should have seen it coming.

***

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the longer wait. ^.^
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this chapter, if you have some time please consider leaving some feedback. ^.^


	9. Chapter 9

***

There had been nothing they could do, so in the end Jim had gone home. Harvey had already left an hour before him, telling him to leave the search to the cops out on the streets. There were no dead, so it wasn´t their case. Jim didn´t like it, but Harvey was right: it wasn´t their job.

He didn´t expect to be able to sleep, but after a shower and some actual dinner he absolutely crashed. One second he sat down on his bed to take off his shoes, the next he was asleep.

When he opens his eyes again – he had only **_blinked_** – it was already morning, light flowing in through the window, blinding him. Great, another night spent in his work clothes with his gun still in the holster. God, he´s a goddamn security risk to himself. He gets rid of his jacket and the holster and is just about to unbutton his shirt when his phone rings. He groans.

“What?“, he barks as a way of greeting, simultaneously struggling with the buttons on his shirt. Who thought it would be a good idea to make them so fucking tiny?

“Woah, good morning to you, too, Jim. Is this how you greet all your friends?”, Oswald counters way too cheery; Jim can actually hear the smile in his voice.

“Had a bad night.“, Jim answers. Why is he even explaining himself? He shakes his head. “Why are you calling?“

“Did you forget about your case, silly? That´s why I´m calling. I told you I would.”

“Yeah, sorry, my mind was somewhere else.“ It most likely still is, because his shirt is now lying on his bed and he´s got no idea how it got there. Huh. At least all the buttons are still intact. “Do you have anything?”

“I found your killer. Not one of Falcone´s guys; he´s more of an independent contractor. Since you found the bodies it´s safe to say he´s not very good at what he does so I´m sure Falcone won´t miss him if he were to be arrested. You´ll find a photo on your desk, as well as an address where you can find him.”, Oswald explains.

“Thank you.“

“I told you, Jim. Anything for a friend. Besides, you helped me so I owe you.“

“No, you don´t.” Jim immediately wants to slap himself. A criminal thinks he owes him and he just brushed it aside? What´s wrong with him lately? “By the way, how are you?” Oh god, and now he´s making small talk.

“I´m fine, Jim.“

“You sound better.“ He really should stop now. He´s more than being civil, they´re not friends, and he´s absolutely not concerned.

“I feel better.“

“You left really soon.” Great, now he´s sounding clingy. He should have hung up minutes ago.

“I had business to attend to, Detective.“, Oswald says, voice apologetic.

“Yeah, um… Thanks again. I´ll… um… be in touch.”, Jim states. Fuck, that wasn´t what he had wanted to say.

“I´m sure you will. I´m looking forward to it.”

 

\-----------------

 

Like Oswald said, there´s an envelope with a photo of a blonde man and an address on Jim´s desk. Well, an open envelope. Harvey sits at his own desk and tries his best to look like he didn´t snoop around.

“You can stop pretending, you know. Does the address ring a bell?”

“Some kind of bar. Your friend even wrote down at what time the guy will be there. No stakeout this time. I still don´t like that penguin, but that was considerate.”

“Yeah. Any news regarding our two fugitives? How are the guards?”, Jim asks.

“Three are still in the hospital, thanks to some bullet wounds, but they´ll make it. The other two are already patched up. Seems like someone didn´t want any police officers on their conscience. Fugitives are still on the run, no leads.”, Harvey answers.

“Come on, there has to be **_something_**. You can´t ambush an armed transport without leaving at least a bit of forensic evidence behind.”

“A lot of people use that street, Jim. It´s like searching for an unknown fingerprint in a full trashcan, you know that.”

“Yeah, I do. It´s just – we had them.“

“And we´ll find them again. You’re a bit whiny today; why, pray tell, is that?”

“I´m not-“

“You are, kid. You can tell me or not, I don´t really care. I´m getting myself something to eat, it´s about time for lunch break.”

“You´ve been here for less than twenty minutes, Harvey.“

“And? If you want you can come along, or you can stay here like a good boy and do your work until it´s time to catch another bad guy. Your choice.”, Harvey says, gets up and raises his eyebrow at Jim. Well, better to get something to eat than do Alvarez´s work

 

\-------------------------  

 

They have an extended break and then waste some more time asking questions about their two fugitives. No one saw or heard anything, the crime scene is just a dirty road between sparsely inhabited buildings, and there´s not one surveillance camera in sight. It´s a good spot.

“Told you there´s nothing.”, Harvey comments.

“Yeah, sorry I doubted you, oh wise one.”, Jim retorts sarcastically. “Come on, it´s time to go. We´ve got a date.“

“I´m not the one wasting time.”

They get to the bar ten minutes early, waiting across the street in the car. It´s early afternoon so there aren´t many people frequenting the building.

“Should be easy, catching the guy.“, Harvey states a few minutes later.

“Except if he runs. They always run.“

“No wonder, I wanted to run, too, when I saw your face for the first time.“

“Funny you should say that. Now, shut up, I think that´s him.” Jim points to a man entering the bar. He matches the photo, likeness clear even with the baseball cap obscuring part of his face.

“Are we going in?”, Harvey asks.

“Might be better. Don´t want him to take a different exit we don´t know about.”, Jim responds, getting out of the car and crossing the street, Harvey in tow.

As soon as they enter the bar, all eyes are on them. Criminals with cop instincts, just what they need. Harvey waits beside the door, while Jim makes his way to their suspect, who has his back to them and stiffens up the more Jim approaches. Oswald seems to be right, that´s not someone professional enough to be missed by Falcone.

“GCPD. Would you please come with us?”, he asks. The guy doesn´t react. “Sir, GCPD. Get up and put your hands where I can see them.” The man gets up slowly and starts turning around.

“Jim, he´s got a gun!”, Harvey shouts, drawing his own weapon. Jim doesn´t even have time to react before the sounds of gunshots pierce the air.

***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait!  
> Anyway, new chapter. ^.^ Hope you´ll enjoy it.


	10. Chapter 10

***

The next thing he´s aware of is the guy lying on the floor, and a burning sensation in his shoulder. Then Harvey is beside him, face too close to his own, scrutinizing him, and gripping his arm.

“Kid? Come on, say something.“

“What did you do?”, Jim counters, voice slightly cracking at the end. He stares past Harvey, stares at the man on the floor and he´s back on the street, on the ground, gaping up as Mario Pepper goes down. Harvey shoots and saves him and starts something so much bigger than them. Because Pepper was framed and now he´s dead, his family bitter, and who knows how everyone else was affected. This one moment, connecting Fish Mooney and Cobblepot and Montoya with himself. Binding him – for some time, at least – to Falcone. Complicating his work even more. He´s saved and simultaneous worse off than before.

“Jim. You´re okay.“, Harvey reassures him, pulling him gently to the side. “Sit down.”

Suddenly, there´s a chair under him and he´s sitting, still staring at the man on the ground. The burning in his shoulder spreads, gets worse. He´s able to focus on Harvey now, whose face is still too close, too concerned looking. He swallows, tries to breathe more shallow as to not move the muscles around his wound too much. Oh god, he´s been shot. He´s been shot and he may have been hallucinating a moment ago.

“Harvey, I´ve been shot.“, he says slowly.

“You don´t say.”

“I think I may be in shock.“

“Could be. Ambulance should be here in a minute. Please don´t die on me.”

“Wouldn´t dream of it.“

“You´re such a romantic.”, Harvey counters, hand still on Jim´s uninjured shoulder, supporting him.

There are sirens in the distance. Seems like Harvey already called backup. Just his luck that such a simple job had to go so wrong.

 

\-----------------------

 

The paramedic patches him up quickly and provisionary, rushing him – despite his polite refusal, which they ignore in favor of listening to Harvey – to the hospital. Damn Harvey and his very convincing – _Jim, I swear to god, I will put another bullet in you if you don´t shut up and let them do their job!_ – arguments. It had been a clean shot, went right through his shoulder. He´s fine, really. Well, **_could_** be thanks to the painkillers he´s got, but who has time to contemplate that option? He certainly hasn´t. There´s paperwork waiting, and criminals and cases. He´s a busy man. A busy man with really blurry vision. It´s a very interesting color, covering the edges of his visual field. And the voices of the paramedics are doing interesting shifts in pitch and-

He blacks out.

 

\----------------------

 

When he comes to again, Harvey is sitting next to him in a chair, snoring. Jim groans.

“Harvey! Wake up and stop with this fucking noise. Harvey!” Again, he´s ignored. He looks around, squinting against the harsh lights in the room. His watch, phone and badge are on the bedside table, within easy reach. Jim grabs his badge – no need to risk damaging his phone – and throws it weakly in Harvey´s direction. It smacks his partner squarely in the face. Harvey jerks awake.

“What the fuck?!”

Jim groans again. Was shouting really necessary? “You were fucking loud. Messed with my brain. Had to wake you.”

“And so you tried to murder me? After I sat by your side for a few hours?”

“Quiet down, will you? And don´t be so melodramatic.”

“I´m just saying you could at least pretend to be grateful.”, Harvey retorts, lowering his voice. He´s silent for a minute. “How´s your shoulder?”, he asks then.

“Painkillers are a gift to humanity.”

“I feel you, kid.”

“Thanks for saving me. And for sorting everything out again. And for letting the paramedics drag me to the hospital.”

“Aw, you´re sweet.”

“I mean it, Harvey.”, Jim says, voice sincere.

Harvey clears his throat. “I was just doing what I had to. Couldn´t let a random criminal kill you, after we survived that stunt with Falcone. Has no style.”

“Yeah. We can´t have that.” That came out scratchier than he intended. Seems like he has to work on his sarcasm.

Harvey gets up and straightens his clothes absently. “Well, it was nice to have this little heart to heart, but… um… I´ll leave you alone for a bit. So you can rest.”

“Thanks.”, Jim retorts. Harvey nods and heads out the door.

 

\----------------------

 

When he wakes up the next time, he´s pretty sure he´s hallucinating. Maybe the hospital staff screwed up the drug dosage. Maybe they lied and the bullet is still in his body and he´s somehow suffering from lead poisoning. Maybe he´s still sleeping.

Because in the chair next to his bed sits not Barbara, not Harvey again, or Ed, or even the Captain, but Oswald – no, Cobblepot – perfectly calm, like he belongs there, in the hospital room of a cop, and stares out of the window. Jim stares at him. It goes on for a while, until Cobblepot notices that he´s awake.

“Jim! I´m so glad you´re awake.”, he exclaims, thankfully already with a lowered volume. Maybe he remembers how he felt not so long ago. Or he´s just more considerate than Harvey. Either way, Jim appreciates it.

“I´m sorry for what happened.“, Oswald adds. Jim believes him, noticing the barely concealed anger in the other man´s expression. There´s a hint of guilt, too.

“Not your fault.“, Jim says, and he means it. Cobblepot´s clever, but he isn´t psychic. At least Jim hopes he isn´t. Anyway, there´s no reason to believe he could have known that the man would shoot right away.

“No, but I put you in danger. I should have dealt with it myself.”

“You´re not a cop, it´s not your job. You can´t just go around and do my work.” No, that would end in a disaster. He´s got no illusions regarding the things Cobblepot´s capable of, doesn´t want to think of the body count the man has.

“However, I should be able to protect my friends.“

“I don´t need a bodyguard.”

“I know, I would never underestimate you. You are the best cop this city could have hoped for.”

“Flattery will get you everywhere.“, Jim states drily. Oswald smiles, a real smile, and Jim is surprised by how young he looks. Not for the first time he wonders how Oswald got into this life of crime and violence and schemes.

“I´m well aware of that. How do you think I managed to get into your room?”

“Bribed the poor cop who has to stand outside?”, Jim guesses. Seeing as there are more than enough cops who may be interested in never seeing him again, it´s the most plausible conclusion.

“No, too much of a hassle. But flowers will take you a long way.” Flowers? Jim blinks, confused, then follows Oswald´s gaze. On his other side, on a table in the corner, sits a vase full of peach roses.

“Roses? Really?“, he asks, slightly amused. They are pretty, he won´t deny that. And he doesn´t think anybody ever brought him flowers, no matter what kind. And now this? Maybe his first thought was right and he´s actually hallucinating.

“Well, I´m sorry, I really am. So these seemed appropriate.”, Oswald explains defensively.

“And nobody stops a man bearing roses.”, Jim adds. He´s rewarded with another smile.

***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed it. ^.^


	11. Chapter 11

***

It´s around 4 p.m. when he falls asleep again. The room has a nice temperature, the painkillers are doing their job, and the company is – contrary to Jim´s expectations – really nice. He had expected some uncomfortable small talk, unpleasant silence and an awkward goodbye. Instead, he finds out that Oswald´s voice – when he isn´t playing his act, speaking in a higher pitch, voice shaking, too insecure, too frightened – is really pleasant. Jim listens, distracted by the buzzing in his head, as Oswald talks about this and that - his work with customers at the restaurant, life in Gotham, things he saw while walking through the hospital – in a low voice. It´s nice, in a really weird way.

No wonder he eventually dozes off.

Voices outside his room are what wakes him in the evening. He thinks he can hear Harvey, arguing with a woman, but can´t really make out words. At least it doesn´t sound like flirting. Having Harvey hitting on the whole staff is the last thing Jim needs right now. Well, besides his partner finding Cobblepot here in his room. Jim opens his mouth, prepared to warn the other man – not that it would help him – but Oswald is already gone. Most likely left hours ago. He should have noticed.

Jim sighs. Either he´s not as good a cop as he – and Oswald apparently – thinks, or the drugs are still messing with his brain. He shakes his head. God, their whole conversation had most likely been just in his mind. Subconscious desire or something like that. Wow, that sounded weird. Jim frowns. Yeah, definitively drugs messing with him.

He turns his head towards the door, catching a glimpse of flowers in the process. Huh. Not just in his mind, then. He´s not sure if that makes it better or worse. Not that he has time to ponder that question more, since Harvey chooses that moment to enter the room.

“The fuck were you thinking?!”

“Yeah, nice to see you, too.”, Jim responds.

“No, really, what were you thinking?! A criminal comes into your room, you fucking call me! You don´t just have a chat with him! Maybe you scream at him or shout for help or start crying, but you don´t just talk with him! Do you remember where we wound up the last time you decided to talk to someone on your own?! In a fucking warehouse, ready to be gutted! We- Are these flowers?”

“Yes, Harvey, I think that´s what they are called.”, Jim retorts. Harvey stares at him, then at the roses, then him again. After a while he huffs.

“Glad you´re making friends, kid. Who´s the lucky one?“

“Weren´t you in the middle of yelling at me?”

“Yeah. Got distracted. Now spill.“

“I don´t think it´s any of your business.“, Jim says. Not that he thinks that will deter Harvey. He´s right.

“Don´t tell me it was him.“ Harvey groans. Jim shrugs.

“Jim. No.“

“I didn´t do anything!”

“Then why does he have such a crush on you?!”

“He doesn´t!“

“Roses, Jim. Sitting by your side. Giving you information. Being **_concerned_**.” Harvey throws him a meaningful look. Jim stares back blankly. “Roses, kid.”, Harvey repeats.

“It´s nothing romantic. He said they show that he´s sorry, or honest. Something like that.”, Jim explains. His partner doesn´t look convinced. In fact, he looks like he´s on the verge of cracking up.

“Well, he´s not wrong with that. They also stand for modesty, beauty and virginity. I think he wanted to tell you something.” Yeah, Harvey´s definitively cracking up.

“You´re disgusting. And wrong. He was just sorry for indirectly getting me shot. Nothing more.”

“Keep telling yourself that, kid.“

“Did you palm a few drugs for yourself?“ Jim really doesn´t see any other option.

Harvey laughs. “No. **_I_** am perfectly sober. Well, as sober as usually.”

“So basically, you´re drunk.“

“I´m offended. And hurt. And here I just wanted to tell you that you´re free to go home.”

“Is that why you were yelling at someone?“, Jim asks.

“No, I threatened the cop who let Cobblepot in. Didn´t know then that you two had a date. I wouldn´t stand in the way of love.”

“I hate you, you know that, right?“, Jim mumbles.

 

\-----------------------

 

An hour later, Jim is finally home again. His own apartment, this time, just in case Barbara decides to come back. Harvey leaves as soon as Jim has settled on the couch, but not before making sure that there is at least something vaguely resembling food available in his fridge. Not that Jim thinks he will need it. He just wants to sleep – in his own bed, for a change - , and when he wakes up he can always order take out. Easier to have someone prepare his food for him than risking a kitchen fire.

He toes off his shoes and then lets himself drop on the bed, grimacing when the motion pulls at his wound. Oh yeah, he hates getting shot. At least he´s getting a few days off out of it, with being high on painkillers and all. Harvey even made the effort to place Jim´s gun in the gun safe. Something about being afraid to get shot, too. As if Jim would willingly take on all the paperwork that would come with that.

He takes a deep breath. The bed is heavenly soft after the mattress the hospital had to offer, there´s soft light coming in through the window and he notices the faint smell of flowers. He frowns. He doesn´t remember taking them with him. Huh. Unconscious actions are funny things. Harvey will most likely never let him live it down, since he´s already so sure that he and Cobblepot are just waiting to elope. Now that´s a funny thought. He blames the drugs.

Jim turns his head to the side and takes another deep breath, closing his eyes. He´s just going to lie there for a while, until he wakes up from this very weird dream. God, how he wishes for someone to be here with him. He hates being alone, always has. It makes the rooms feel too big, too cold. The silence, he likes. But another breathing being would be nice, regardless.

Maybe the couch would have been the wiser choice; TV and all. Not that he would be able to move now. He slowly starts to drift off, the noises of the city just audible through the walls.

***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New chapter (a bit shorter than usual, but better than nothing I hope)!  
> I hope you enjoyed it. If you have the time, please consider leaving some feedback. ^.^
> 
> Merry Christmas to those who celebrate, and happy holidays!


	12. Chapter 12

***

Shadows are moving all around him, blurring the edges of his vision. The world moves in and out of focus, colors muted. He shakes his head, trying to get rid of the dizziness, trying to see **_where_** he is. Not that it actually works. Jim tries to move, to rub his hands over his eyes, and freezes. Well, maybe “freeze “ isn´t right, since he can´t actually move, or feel his body for that matter. He closes his eyes, then slowly opens them again. Nothing changes. He tries again. Panic rises in his chest.

“Hello, Jim.“

He jerks around – or the world moves, or his vision slides to the right; he´s not sure, and it doesn´t really matter anyway – and Oswald´s face comes into focus, the man crouching down in front of him, almost on his knees. Everything is still a bit blurry and somehow not quite right, but that doesn´t stop the feeling of relief that washes over him. He´s not alone and maybe even somewhat save. Not as bad as it could be, really.

That is, until he notices the blood. There are dark red spots on Oswald´s cheeks and jaw; blood dripping from a split lip, running from several shallow cuts on his throat into the collar of his shirt, staining it; causing his hair stick to the side of his face. And, despite everything, Oswald is still smiling.

“Oh god, what happened to you?!”, Jim whispers, shocked. The feeling of relief is gone, replaced by dread and concern and **_fury._**

“Oh, come on, don´t tell me you don´t know! Isn´t it obvious?“, Oswald replies cheerfully.

“You are hurt.“

“You didn´t seem to mind, back then, when you ignored my obvious injuries, fired a gun right next to my head and shoved me into the freezing water.”

Jim winces and keeps silent. He did the right thing, he saved Oswald´s life. And yeah, he hadn´t been gentle, but he didn´t know the man then, not really, and he had been angry and confused and a bit scared, so there´s that. He had done what he could.

“I´m not mad, don´t you worry. Just pointing out the facts.” Oswald is still smiling, showing no sign that he even **_feels_** the pain wounds like these should cause him.

“What happened?“, Jim asks again, with more force. Oswald´s smile falters, his expression softens.

“You were too late. Too much playing around in the streets, joking with your partner, wasting time I needed. Ten minutes earlier and you could have saved me. Rushing in like the noble hero you so desperately want to be. But you failed.” Jim stares, swallows hard, and Oswald pats his arm. He still can´t feel his body, except the spot where Oswald´s hand seems to radiate cold, and it makes this whole experience so much more surreal.

“Oh, come on. It´s not like that´s a bad thing. One criminal less on the streets. I understand. You had more important things on your mind.”

“That´s not-“, Jim tries to interject, but his voice cracks and Oswald continues to talk like he didn´t even hear anything.

“I mean, I know I´m not important enough to be saved. I doubt anyone would even notice I´m gone.” Oswald´s tone is still nonchalant.

“I would.”

“I´m sure. Nobody likes to lose their source of information. But don´t worry, I´m sure you´ll find someone new and be just fine. I hear Fish´s doing great and ready to talk to you again.”

“No, I-“

“I am well aware of my own worth, Jim.” Oswald smiles sadly, now resting his hand on Jim´s knee. Jim tries to shift, but he still can´t move even with feeling slowly returning to his body. Oswald chuckles softly.

“Why are you afraid, Jim? Technically, I should be the one being scared. Who knows what awaits me now?” A laugh. „Remember what I told you: Better to walk with a friend in the dark than alone in the light? Seems like I couldn´t even make that work.” A flash of cold fury in his eyes. “I should have gotten the chance to take you with me! **_You_** should have been the one suffering!” Oswald is shouting now, and Jim can´t breath and the hand on his leg tightens its grip and it **_hurts_** , because Oswald is right, if he can´t even save one man, how could he save this city and-

 

\---------------------

 

He jerks awake, muscles tense, covered in cold sweat and panting. Oh fuck. He´s shaking, holding onto his sheets, trying to ground himself. It´s the first time he´s had a nightmare of something not related to his time in the army. He´s almost used to those, but this had been new and maybe that´s what made it so jarring.

His cellphone is in his hand without him having to think about it. Well, in hindsight it might have been smarter if he had stopped to think. Or waited until he didn´t sound like he had just ran a marathon anymore. However, here he is, on his phone, listening to the dial tone, still not completely awake. So it comes as no surprise that he startles when he hears a familiar voice greeting him.

“Detective? Do you know what time it is? Not everyone is unfortunate enough to stay at home the next day.”, the man sounds irritated and a bit tired – seems like crime **_does_** sleep sometimes - but not like he´s in danger. And really, why should he be?

Jim holds his breath, counts to eight, exhales. It had just been a silly dream. He´s okay. The city didn´t turn to ash while he slept. Oswald is okay. They are both fine, as safe as one can be in Gotham.

“Jim? Are you alright?”, Oswald asks. Now there´s concern in his voice and he sounds very much awake. Jim swallows. What is he even doing?

“Jim? What happened?”

Jim mentally slaps himself. He could have called Harvey or maybe even Barbara, but no, it had to be Oswald. The only criminal he had on speed dial – well, the only one he knew about – and that´s the one he chose. Sometimes he felt like his life was a particularly screwed up TV show.

“I´ll come over.”, Oswald states suddenly, and Jim can hear rustling in the background, and **_that´s_** what prompts him to speak, the fact that the other is willing to come here just to make sure that Jim´s okay, in the middle of the night, without having to be asked.

“No.”, he says, voice a bit shaky, but not as bad as he thought. Oswald seems to have stopped what he was doing, since there´s only silence on the other end of the line. “No, you don´t have to. Everything´s fine. I-“ He swallows. “I just wanted to see how you are doing.” It´s not even a lie, and it still doesn´t sound convincing. He´s pretty sure Oswald is going to call bullshit.

“Alright. I´m doing fine. There´s not much business at this time of night.”, Oswald replies after a few seconds. Huh. That´s not what Jim had expected. He blinks.

“Is there something you want, Jim? Anything I can do?”, Oswald asks. Patient. Maybe even gentle, but that could just be Jim´s imagination running wild. He can think of a lot of things he wants; having someone here with him, someone to talk to, to… He shakes his head. And he can think of a few things Oswald could do to help him; clean the streets, for example, or the police force, or he really could come over, and they… No. No, it´s bad enough that he called in the middle of the night and is now keeping Oswald awake, he doesn´t need to follow that line of thought.

“I- I don´t want to waste your time.”, Jim answers. God, he feels silly.

“You are not wasting my time, my friend. I´m already awake anyway.”

“I know. Sorry about that.”

“Don´t be.”

For a while, neither of them speaks.

“Could you, I don´t know… Just talk?”, Jim asks. And cringes. Oh god. He fucked up. He fucked up. He-

“Of course. But I have to warn you. Working in a restaurant isn´t nearly as exciting as one would imagine.”

***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all had a good start in the new year!
> 
> As always, I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and, as always, if you have the time I would love some feedback. ^.^


	13. Chapter 13

***

The next morning, Harvey knocks on his door bearing a bag of donuts. Jim pretends that´s the only reason he lets his partner in, even though he´s glad for the company. Morning TV may have the quality of Harvey´s comments, but it just isn´t the same.

“So, any news?”, Jim asks while Harvey rummages through the kitchen, most likely searching for coffee.

“Hm?”

“We are still two kidnappers short and there´s a dead man with no motive.”

“Nah, nothing. Search is still going, though. As for a motive, your guess is as good as mine.”

“There has to be something. You just don´t start killing the men of the mob leader because you woke up and felt like it.”

“Really? Because I´m pretty sure that was your thought process before taking on Falcone. And the mayor.”

“Will you ever let that go?”, Jim groans.

“And waste that kind of ammunition? Come on Jimbo, I wouldn´t be that irresponsible.”, Harvey retorts and triumphantly sets a pack of coffee on the counter. Jim didn´t even know he had one.

“Aren´t you the least bit curious?”, Jim tries. Harvey gives him a look.

“No. The perp is dead. And you heard the captain: there´s no case. So stop it.”

“Harvey.”

“No. I will have breakfast, we will make awkward small talk, ´cause I don´t feel like torturing you with my latest tales of conquest, I will make sure you won´t die in the near future, and then I will leave and you will be very sad and maybe cry because of the loss.”

“Don´t you think you´ve gone overboard with your theatrics?”, Jim asks, smiling.

“I know you. You love me.”

“True, but not the point.”

Harvey gasps in mock shock, clutching a hand to his chest. “Jim! What will your boyfriend think? So shortly after he practically proposed to you?”

“Just stop it.” Being reminded of Oswald brings back the memories of the dream and the phone call, and the last thing Jim needs now is to be thinking about these. Harvey seems to sense his change of mood.

“Just kidding. Didn´t know it´s a sore point.”

“It´s not. Just a lot going on recently.”

Harvey turns serious. “Listen Jim. I don´t know what happened, just that there´s something really weird between the two of you and I don´t like it, I don´t like _him._ Just keep your distance.”

“Like you and Fish?”

“Don´t compare that gorgeous woman to your little snitch. What we have is enjoyable business. You just have a mess.”

 

\----------------------------

 

After Harvey leaves, Jim fully expects a long boring day with nothing to do and only the company of his painkillers. So he´s more than a little surprised when there´s another knock on his front door. He slowly gets up from where he´s slumped on his couch and opens his door. His mind is a bit foggy courtesy of the pills so it´s understandable – but not less stupid - that he doesn´t take his gun with him, forgets any kind of security measures, and doesn´t shut the door in Oswald´s face as soon as the face registers. That could have been any member of the mob and he just presented a great opportunity for an ‘accident’ to happen.

“Hello Jim.”

“God, what are you doing here?” That came out harsher than he intended. He mentally slaps himself. Why does he even care how he sounds? No matter what Harvey says, they´re strictly business. Just with late night calls and favors, apparently. Okay, he´s got to admit that he´s not even fooling himself with that.

“Can´t I worry about a friend?”, Oswald asks, smiling his real smile again. Jim likes this look on him. He looks happy, not scheming or groveling or with a crooked smile and a manic glint in his eye. It´s an open look, and Jim wonders if that´s the real Oswald or at least how he used to be before his life of crime. God, what the fuck is he even thinking today? He shakes his head.

Oswald must have interpreted that as a no, since his smile drops. “I brought you lunch.”, he states, his usual polite but clearly fake expression back in place. Jim almost slaps himself. That´s not what he wanted, not at all.

“Thanks. Why don´t you come in?”, he asks and steps aside. Oswald hesitates, then walks past him into the apartment. It´s only after the other man has set down a bag with food on his kitchen counter, that Jim notices that he never told Oswald where he lived. He waits for the feeling of dread to wash trough him, but there´s nothing. He´s okay with Oswald knowing and being here, and that´s what worries him the most. He clears his throat.

“How did you know where I am?”, he asks.

“Your lack of security measures is appalling, did anyone ever tell you that?”, Oswald retorts instead of answering, not even turning in his direction while he roams through various drawers.

“No.”

“You need better friends, Jim.”

“Do I need to move?”, he asks. He doesn´t think that Oswald meant anything he said as a threat, but he just can´t figure that man out, and better safe than sorry.

“Nobody will harm you, my friend. I´ll make sure of that.” There´s that damn sincerity again, like it isn´t an impossible promise.

 

\-----------------------

 

After three weeks of going crazy at home, two other visits from Oswald – he hates to admit that he likes their conversations -, and one from Harvey, Jim gets a doctor to declare him fit for duty again and goes back to work. Crime never sleeps in Gotham and he did enough sleeping in the last month to last him the rest of the year, so he isn´t surprised to see two stacks of paperwork – two because Harvey couldn´t stack the first one any higher without toppling it – on his desk and a new case on hand. It´s an easy case, but he still can´t catch his breath until the end of the week when the perp is in Blackgate and he is actually able to see the surface of his table again.

“How can it be that we still haven´t found two guys we already had!?”, he complains, leaning back in his chair. His shoulder still feels sore and this damn incident just doesn´t leave him alone.

“We did what we could. As I already told you the last fourteen times you asked me.”, Harvey retorts, annoyed. He doesn´t like it either.

“There has to be something…”

“Look, you know there´s only our two friendly neighborhood criminals left, and I for one have absolutely no intention of kissing Fish´s ass just to get two guys that are dangerous, yes, but also very dumb. They will make a mistake and we will take them in again. See? Patience.”

Jim snorts. Harvey looks offended.

“I´m off.”, Jim announces a few minutes later, getting up from his desk and stretching his back.

“No, Jim. Bad idea. I was joking! When will you learn to _not_ listen to me?!”, Harvey groans.

“And ignore your words of wisdom? Never!”, Jim grins and starts to leave. Harvey grudgingly follows him.

“So you´re coming, too?”

“Someone has to be the voice of reason with you two lovebirds. See what I did there? Bird pun? Because you and _Penguin_.” Harvey is smirking, punching Jim´s shoulder – at least it´s the uninjured one.

Jim sighs. “I´m so proud of you.”, he mumbles sarcastically.

***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, next chapter. I hope you enjoyed it.^^
> 
> Thanks to everyone who left feedback and kudos, you guys keep me going. ^.^
> 
> (You can also read my fanfics on tumblr: http://no-other-fanfic.tumblr.com/ )


	14. Chapter 14

***

Oswald smiles as soon as Jim enters the club – it´s still weird to think of it as _Oswald´s_ , since that happened only a week ago; and it´s a mess, honestly; and Jim will never admit that he´s worried, with Oswald switching allegiance like dirty towels - almost stumbling to get off his chair. Jim involuntarily smiles back. Then Harvey steps inside, and the atmosphere instantly gets colder.

“Detectives. To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?”, Oswald asks politely, even though there´s a spark of annoyance now.

“Your lover was feeling lonely.”, Harvey mumbles and saunters over to the bar, where Butch is waiting – one of the few relicts still reminding everyone that this was once Fish´s club. Jim´s good mood vanishes, seeing again what Oswald seems to be capable of – why he shouldn´t associate with him, shouldn´t _trust_ him – and his smile becomes forced. Oswald, of course, notices; because that´s what he does, what keeps him _alive_ – and is simultaneously what gets him in trouble because he´s just too damn smart for his own good.

“Are you alright, Jim?”, Oswald asks, and fuck, he just sounds concerned now.

“Yes. Just- just work. I need another favor, actually.”

“And how can I help you?” First of all, he could stop staring at Jim with these fucking intense blue eyes, and then he could take a step back – or forward, Jim´s mind unhelpfully supplies – and _that_ would help, thank you very much. Oswald clears his throat, watching Jim full of expectation. Jim mentally slaps himself back to reality.

“You know, a few weeks back when there was that _incident_ where-“

“Where I found myself in some very unpleasant circumstances? Yes, I remember. And I also do not want to have any other part in this.”, Oswald states. He´s retreating back behind his mask now, the one Jim thought he wouldn´t see again – and when the fuck had he been thinking about _that_?

“You want them to just get away with everything?”, Jim asks, baffled. Oswald strikes him as a person who loves to entertain revenge fantasies, and follow through with them. So he didn´t expect Oswald to turn down a chance to help catch the people who hurt him – or, in his opinion, _humiliated_ him, because Jim´s sure that´s what Oswald cares more about, what with the amount of bruises he always showcases. Jim doesn´t like it, but pain is something Oswald just seems used to, too used to really care about anymore, just another minor inconvenience on his way to the top.

“No, Detective. But this is your job, not mine, isn´t it? I just want nothing to do with this.”

“But-“

“No.”, Oswald snaps, and there´s something in his expression, something Jim can´t pinpoint–

“I´m sorry.”, he adds then; closing his eyes, holding his hands up appeasingly and taking a deep breath. "It´s just-“

“I know. And I´m sorry I asked. Should have known better.”

And now Oswald´s smile is back, but there´s still something not quite right.

“Well, we´ll be on our way, then.”, Jim says, eyes everywhere but on Oswald´s face – because he´s looking for Harvey, dammit – and then there´s a hand on his arm and he freezes, because when the fuck did Oswald move, and he´s involuntarily staring into blue eyes again.

“Until next time, my friend. Stay safe.”

And then the hand is gone and Jim nods and moves towards Harvey and tries not to think about-

“God, you two are so sweet.”, Harvey comments, and when the hell did they leave the building, ´cause this is clearly a sidewalk he´s standing on now, and Jim just stares at his partner.

“Kiddo?”

“Hm?”

“You okay?”

“What? Of course I am. What makes you think otherwise?”

“Well, you weren´t your usual annoyingly persistent self in there, so I figured something was wrong.”

“He doesn´t like to talk about what happened and I can respect that.”, Jim retorts; and if it´s coming out more aggressive than he intended, well, he has no time to think about it.

“Since when? Usually, you´ve got such a hard-on for justice that you would never consider giving up just because someone´s uncomfortable.”. Harvey doesn´t look impressed. “Besides, he´s as much a criminal as them, you don´t have to handle him with velvet gloves.”

“I know, I know.”

“Just making sure.”, Harvey says, pats Jim´s shoulder – still the uninjured one; he´s being really thoughtful lately – and saunters over to their car. Jim follows.

“Something´s not right.”, he mumbles once they are inside, leaning his head against the cool window and closing his eyes. Harvey snorts.

“How did you figure that out?”, he retorts, starting the ignition.

“No, really. There´s something I´m not seeing.”

“Yeah, the room sized crush you both have on each other.”

“Still not funny.”, Jim snaps, mind working at full speed. Harvey chuckles.

 

\---------------------

 

Jim sleeps terribly this night. He thinks everything Oswald said to him in the last few weeks over, looking for clues, trying to ease the nagging feeling in his chest. And while he´s come to like Oswald´s voice – and he certainly doesn´t mind playing their conversations back and forth in his mind, because it _soothes_ him, nothing else – it just makes him keyed up now.

He dreams, too. Images of bodies, blood, and dirt, littering the street. He wanders around for a while, feeling strangely detached. It´s like he´s finally so desensitized that nothing can shock him anymore. At any other time, that would be what scares him the most; losing his morals. But right now he feels no fear, it´s calm, nothing left to save, everything already burned to the ground. There´s nothing to worry about.

He closes his eyes, breathing in smoke. He has no idea where it comes from, doesn´t even care. And then he hears a shot. He spins around, just in time to see another body fall to the ground. It´s Harvey. Harvey´s down and Jim looks up to stare right into familiar blue eyes.

“You have to make a decision, James. What will it be?”

He doesn´t know.

 

\------------------------

 

Jim wakes up with a start. For a moment he´s disoriented, and then everything clicks into place.

“Oh god.”, he mutters, scrambling for his clothes.

He´s been played. Oh god, why didn´t he _see_ it? Harvey was right, he had become way to trusting. He´s such an idiot. Such a goddamn _idiot._ It was so obvious, even the motive was there. And he didn´t see it. Harvey will never let him hear the end of it.

He stops dead in his tracks when he reaches the door. What is he even doing? Just going to barge in? A soft bitter laugh makes its way out of his mouth. Well, it´s the same plan he usually has. And he knows Harvey will have his back. And if he´s not getting a good reason – for being played, that is; he already knows the reason for the murder, and as sick as he feels admitting it, he understands completely – he _will_ find a charge he can pin on his _friend_ and Blackgate will love to have a new guest.

He takes a deep breath, and then he´s out of the door and on the phone, calling Harvey, because he´s not sure he´ll be able to do _anything_ when the time has come without a sarcastic comment to remind him that his anger is justified – as is the feeling of betrayal he doesn´t want to think about – and he´s sure there are a few things Harvey himself would like to say.

***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed this chapter, since I´m really not sure about how it turned out... ^.^
> 
> If you have the time, please consider leaving some feedback. I would love to hear some thoughts.^^


	15. Chapter 15

***

He rests his head on his hands and sighs. Annoyed at himself. Seems like he can´t even keep his act up around Jim anymore. He had responded too quickly, given too much away, and now it´s just a matter of time until Jim realizes. He already dreads this moment.

But he won´t apologize for what he´s done, what had been _necessary_ , what they _deserved_. Not even to Jim. Because he couldn´t tolerate to be treated like this, to let it go unpunished _again_. Too many people got away with hurting him, treating him like scum, and he will never let that happen again.

However, there´s Jim now. And as much as he hates it, he doesn´t want to disappoint him. He enjoys their friendship, having someone who has his back without being paid to. He supposes it was nice while it lasted.

 

\---------------------------

 

It ends with a stand-off, or maybe it starts with one. Jim storms in, Harvey in tow; Butch and Gabe are there, drawing their weapons the second they see them. Oswald rises from his chair, eyes on Jim.

“James, you´re back! Rather soon, may I add.”, Oswald greets him, a tight smile on his face. Trying for a sense of normality, even now.

“Do us a favor and spare me your false politeness. You had me running around searching for a lead that wasn´t there! I wasted time I could have spent working other cases! I-“

“You would have arrested me.”

“Yes! You almost killed four guards!”

“Yes, _almost_.”

“And our two perps?! What happened to them?”

“I think you know what happened. It was my right!”, Oswald answers, voice strained though he tries for gentle. He knows that Jim´s morals prevent him from endorsing his methods, but that doesn´t stop him from trying to make Jim _understand_.

“Then _tell_ me.”, Jim growls. Oswald laughs.

“I may be many things, but I´m not stupid. I won´t confess anything. I have too much to lose to go to prison.”

“Sounds to me like he has something to hide. How about we drag him back to the station, see if we can make him talk?”, Harvey comments, gesturing with his gun.

“Do you really think you can put me behind bars, Detective Bullock?”, Oswald snarls, barely holding back his temper. Someone like Bullock has no _right_ to talk to him like that, claiming moral high ground. “I wonder what the mayor has to say about that. Or the commissioner.” He smiles again, icy this time.

Jim reacts without thinking. One moment he´s next to Harvey, then, a second later, his hands are twisted into the lapels of Oswald´s jacket, two guns instantly trained on him. He briefly wonders how no one has shot him yet, then notices that Oswald has one hand lifted, signaling stop.

“I thought I could trust you!”, Jim hisses. Oswald´s face hardens.

“I never gave you a reason not to. This had nothing to do with us.”

“Why didn´t you just say something?!”

“And let you arrest me, like you´re trying to do now!?”

“I just might have let you go!”, Jim shouts. Silence. All eyes on him. Fuck.

“I know where your priorities lie, James. You wouldn´t have.”, Oswald counters, but it´s a bit softer now. Taken by surprise. He´s still right, though. Not to say that Jim wouldn´t have considered it. He takes a deep breath. Releases Oswald, steps back. Collects himself.

“Where are they?”, he asks then.

“You won´t find them.” If you´re good, no one will find a body. Jim remembers that conversation. Oswald told him. He just hadn´t seen the implications then. He´s getting slow.

“We will.”, he retorts. Turns around and leaves.

“Jim! We´re not done! Where are you going?!”, Harvey shouts, then – when he doesn´t get an answer – curses, and follows.

 

\--------------------

 

Jim barely has time to think in the weeks that follow.

There´s the Ogre, and Barbara´s descent into madness, destroying any chance they may still have had. Lee realizes that they are never going to work and does what she should have done weeks ago – gets a new job and leaves. She writes him and he is glad that she´s happy, but it stings.

Then there´s the stunt at the warehouse, Maroni´s death, Falcone´s retirement, Fish Mooney´s fall, and – consequently – Oswald´s rise. He´s the king now, at least in name, but Jim doesn´t doubt that if someone manages to unite the families and hold onto this position, it´s Oswald. He never cared that the odds were stacked against him.

 

\------------------

 

To add to everything, Jim realizes that he misses him. He would rather die before admitting it to anyone besides himself, but that doesn´t make it any less true. The GCPD is getting more hostile by the day, and Jim slowly doesn´t know what he´s even fighting for anymore.

He was at peace, he realizes. Knowing there was someone with connections, someone manipulative enough to get even Falcone to spare him, someone who _worried,_ out there watching his back; that had been nice.

He´s conflicted. Saving a city - saving people - which doesn´t want to be saved, or saving himself. He doesn´t know if any of these are worth it.

There are still two cold cases – more, but these are _his_ cases – and he throws himself back into work, because, really, what else is there? He won´t stop searching, even though he knows that he most likely will never find any proof against Oswald, but there´s still the question who would be stupid or influential enough to get two random guys – one of them with a higher than average knowledge of chemicals – to target Oswald Cobblepot and for what reason. Also there is the matter of the other three guys and their presumed – now dead – killer.

He´s still stuck when Harvey caves under the pressure and quits. Jim would be lying if he said he never considered it, too, but he won´t give them the satisfaction. He knows he´s stubborn to a fault. It´s one of the things he´s not even sorry for.

Sometimes at night, when he can´t sleep – which is far too often – he thinks back to the conversations he had with Oswald; insightful, even when not related to business, and feels even lonelier. He thinks back to the dream, too, remembers the calm of it, though there was nothing to feel calm about, and that´s another thing he misses. That feeling that came with doing what was necessary. He knows he made the wrong choice, choosing a sense of duty that was already on the ground over his own peace.

And now he´s even turning to his own dreams for guidance on how to sort out this mess. He might be more fucked than he thought.

***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late update, I had a few shitty weeks. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this chapter. ^.^
> 
> And as always: If you can spare the time, please consider leaving some feedback. ^.^


	16. Chapter 16

***

He´s sleep deprived, stressed, and wants answers – _preferably_ _fucking_ _now_ , because it´s already been so long and he can almost hear the criminals laughing when he closes his eyes. So it´s no wonder that he finally cracks. For a moment – when he stands just outside the nightclub – he thinks that yes, this is a fucking stupid idea, but Jim´s very good at not listening to himself so he continues on the way. At least it doesn´t seem like Oswald holds a grudge, since Gabe let´s him pass without a word instead of just straight up shooting him.

“Cobblepot.”, Jim growls as way of greeting.

Oswald fails to look suitably impressed. Okay, he fails to look anything, because his back is turned to the door, but that is beside the point. The point is that he didn´t even flinch when Jim entered, and that does not worry Jim, _absolutely fucking not_.

“Oswald?” That gets him a reaction. Oswald jerks upright, eyes darting to the open door before looking at Jim. He looks paler than usual, eyes slightly unfocused. Well, that certainly explained the long reaction time.

“Are you drunk?”, Jim asks and forgets for a moment that he´s supposed to be angry.

Oswald laughs. Jim inches closer. He knows how unpredictable the other man is at the best of times.

“Are you sure that´s a good idea?”

“No, I suppose not. But since everyone´s already out to get me, why not give them a fair chance?”, Oswald retorts, smile bordering on manic.

“You´re an absolute nutcase, you know?”, Jim sighs and looks around awkwardly. That´s not a situation he had plans for. He can feel Oswald staring at him, leaning back in his chair, posture much more open than he´s used to.

The silence stretches on. Jim clears his throat. Catches Gabe´s eye for a moment through the open door. Looks back at Oswald. Fuck. Another sigh.

“You!” Jim gestures to Gabe. “Get him some water. We have to sober him up.”

Gabe throws him an inscrutable look, but does as he´s told. He´s a good man, Jim can appreciate that much.

“What for? Do you have plans for me?”, Oswald asks; and Jim is surely imagining the flirtatious tone, because no fucking way this is happening. However, besides everything Jim´s pretty sure that if not for his experience as a police officer, where you learn not to give anything away, he would be blushing. He instead opts for the manly thing to do and goes to get the damn water himself, and is it just him or is it all of sudden really warm in the club?

He doesn´t get very far tough, since Gabe blocks his path and thrusts a water bottle against his chest.

“Don´t do anything stupid.”, the larger man says quietly. A warning. Jim raises his eyebrows.

“Are you threatening me?” His temper flares again. Jim takes a deep breath.

“No. Just a friendly reminder. No matter what he thinks, he´s not without backup.” With that, Gabe retreats. Jim borrows a glass from the bar and returns to Oswald, shutting the door behind him. When he looks at the other man this time, Oswald´s whole face lights up again. Like almost every time they met before. Oh god.

“I´m fucked.”, Jim mumbles, still standing in the middle of the room.

“Not currently, you´re not.“, Oswald chimes in. Jim groans and makes a mental note to think his life over because, clearly, something somewhere went horribly wrong.

“Drink this.” He holds a glass of water in front of Oswald´s face.

“Why would I?”

“Because I told you to.”

Another smirk. “Didn´t think you´d enjoy this kind of thing.”

He´s getting more irritated by the second. “What do you mean?”

“More important question: what do you want?”

Jim stares at him blankly. Blinks. Stares some more. Even opens his mouth. There´s nothing he can say.

“See, Jim, that´s the problem. You don´t know.”, Oswald says. A second later he´s in Jim´s face, clutching his shirt. “You don´t know anything.”, he hisses.

And that´s where Oswald´s wrong, Jim thinks, because he knows what he wants, it´s just that he wants too many things. He wants peace, but knows that there´s no purpose for him without chaos. He wants someone he can depend on, but he knows he will get bored eventually. He wants safety and danger. Being the one who saves them all and being the one who just throws it all away. Wants someone to tell him what to do and wants to be the one who makes decisions. Wants to lead and follow. And, overall, he wants what he can never have. Can´t **_let_** himself have.

He realizes he´s still staring. Oswald´s even closer than before, looking back at him. The intense focus he normally has is back in place, and Jim wonders if that´s how he looks at everyone, the reason he came so far because he sees things he shouldn´t, and what he sees right now.

Why doesn´t Oswald move away? He made his point clear, there´s nothing he could gain from this close a contact. That´s when he realizes that he has a hand on Oswald´s neck, finger threaded into the other man´s hair, holding him in place. And for once Oswald seems to be content to just wait and see what will happen next.

So of course Jim does what everyone in his situation would have done, he backs away. Because Oswald is drunk, and Jim is going mad with sleep deprivation, and they both don´t want any of this. Clearly.

He might be in denial.

Oswald looks like he wants to say something, but even more like he has trouble standing upright, so Jim does the sensible thing and guides him to a couch in a corner of the room. Getting him to actually sit down on it is another matter entirely, since Oswald apparently decided that he really likes Jim´s shirt since he refuses to let it go. And that´s how Jim ends up in an awkward half-crouch in front of a couch in a mob-owned nightclub.

“That´s not what you came here for.”, Oswald mumbles, with that fucking soft smile, and Jim can feel the anger rise again. At himself, at Oswald, at this whole situation. He takes a deep breath, closes his eyes. Oswald is staring at him again, when he opens them.

“No. But you´re not up for business.”

Oswald snorts. And then he´s grabbing Jim´s head, pulling him forward until their lips meet, and it´s just a few seconds – and gentle, and soft, and Jim´s so **_fucked_** \- before letting go and slumping down on the couch again, eyes closing. Out like a light. Lucky.

Meanwhile Jim´s just sitting there, too stunned to move, contemplating his life and his choices.

What. The. Fuck.

***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New chapter! ^.^
> 
> I hope you like it! If you have time please consider leaving some feedback?


	17. Chapter 17

***

He wakes up to a crick in his neck and a very amused Gabe handing him a cup of tea.

“Successful night?”, Gabe asks.

Oswald does his best to stare him down. Needless to say that it doesn´t work so well from where he´s still sprawled across the couch. “Nothing that will concern you.”, he replies, because while he trusts Gabe more than the other people working for him, there are things he absolutely **_doesn´t need to know_**. Like what transpired between him and Jim. Oswald barely manages to prevent himself from cursing. His head hurts, but the memories are suddenly all back and very clear. He desperately tries to maintain a poker face. No use.

From the look of it, Gabe **_does_** know. “Do not tell anyone a word of this.”, Oswald commands. Gabe nods, definitely _not_ smiling.

“Why? You´ve done worse things than traumatizing our poor detective.“, Victor chimes in. Oswald´s head whips around to where the other man is standing in the doorframe, grinning. Great.

“Did you get anything?”, Oswald asks him, because some things just don´t deserve to be answered.

“Yes. Unlike you, it seems.”, Victor replies with a very smug expression. Again, that doesn´t deserve an answer.

“Tell me.”, Oswald says instead, straightening himself and walking across the room, pushing through the pain in his leg. Sleeping on the couch hadn´t done him any favors.

“Wanna do it in private or do you want to let our dear Detective watch?”

“Victor, stop.” He takes a deep breath. “Where is he?”

“At the bar.”, Gabe replies.

“Having an existential crisis.”, Victor adds.

“Thank you, Gabe. Make sure everyone does as they should. You´ll be handling business today.”, Oswald tells the larger man, who nods and takes his leave. “And Victor: behave.”

 

\---------------------

 

Jim is slumped over the bar, a glass of whiskey next to his head. He looks like he hasn´t slept in days and Oswald feels guilty and angry at the same time. The GCPD has no right to run him ragged like this, to leave him on his own, to make his life hell. He knows he himself has most likely a not so small part in this, but at least he appreciates what Jim is trying to do for the city. That´s why he´s doing what he´s going to do.

“Jim.”

Jim jerks upright, stares at him for a few seconds, then avoids his gaze like his life depends on it. Well, that could have gone better.

“Victor, if you would.”

“Sure.”

Jim tenses. Most likely expecting his untimely end. So much for trust. Oswald sighs, then gently puts a hand on Jim´s arm, who tenses even more.

“You came here to talk business and that´s what we´re going to do now. Victor dug something up. I think you´ll be interested.”

“Why would you help me now?”, Jim asks, still not making eye contact, but visibly relaxing. Progress.

“There´s still someone out to get me, the sponsor of the two _gentlemen_ I had the pleasure to meet, and I would like to know why.”

“And the other case?”

“Falcone´s men are mine now. It will be good for moral.” He´s reaching a bit here, but not lying. Jim hasn´t shrugged of his hand yet. Or stormed out. All in all, the situation could be worse.

“Okay.”, Jim sighs. “Okay. What do you know?“ He looks a bit more alive now, a spark back in his eyes, and if Oswald smiles a bit too sincerely at that or let´s his hand linger for just a second more, well, that´s his business, isn´t it?

 

\---------------------

 

In the end, it´s ridiculously simple, and Oswald would laugh if it all wasn´t so fucking stupid. One of the families got too greedy, thought it would be a great idea to get into the business of trading information, and what better sources than people who know too much but don´t _know_ it?

All of the victims had the _luck_ to have some obscure connection to one high ranking criminal – or politician, which in most cases is the same thing – or another, which lead to them overhearing some things, which lead to them being interrogated and then dying.

The responsible people are quickly found, thanks to some _convincing_ arguments on Victor´s part, and equally quickly removed, thanks to some murdering on Victor´s part. Oswald makes sure to tell Jim only about the “finding-and-questioning”, and Jim doesn´t ask for details. Oswald is sure that he knows exactly what happened; knew it from the moment he requested Oswald´s help _again_.

 

\----------------------

 

“I hope you didn´t leave anything indiscriminating at the scene of your latest business meeting.”, Jim grumbles, standing awkwardly at a corner of a small side street, staring straight ahead.

“Is that how you greet an old friend, Detective?”, Oswald retorts, raising an eyebrow and straightening his cufflinks.

“There´s another dead body and my shift ended half an hour ago.”

“You look good. Easier times at the GCPD, James?”

Jim throws a meaningful look over his shoulder at the street behind him, where Harvey tries to chew an officer out without really screaming, because there´s a criminal within earshot and the GCPD is an united front. Oswald _almost_ smiles at that. They´re at the scene of a crime after all.

“We haven´t had time to really talk in a while, don´t you agree?”, Oswald asks suddenly, now also observing the street in front of him.

“Well, we are both busy people. And, you know, crime never sleeps.” Jim gives Oswald a pointed look. This time, he gets a smile in return.

“So, I was thinking dinner.”

Jim almost chokes on air. _What?!_ “What?” He´s sure his imagination is playing tricks on him. Oswald would never say th-

“Great. At eight tomorrow? I´ll send someone to get you.” And with that Oswald – who almost sounded nervous, for which Jim also blames his imagination - leaves, with Jim left to stare at his back like a surprised fish. What the fuck just happened?

 

\----------------

 

He´s _giddy_ for the whole next day, eyeing his watch, making sure he actually gets to leave on time so he can go home and change. His paperwork is finished, there are no new leads to follow, and his shift ends in three minutes.

Harvey comes back complaining about the lack of coffee. Two minutes left.

A very minor argument with Alvarez. Mere seconds.

Jim grabs his jacket and his phone and stands.

Harvey shoots him a look. “Leaving already?”

“Shift´s ended. I´m officially free.“

“ _That_ normally doesn´t stop you.”, Harvey comments.

Jim shrugs. “Yeah, see, nice talk, but I really have to hurry. Got a date.”

They both freeze at that.

“Jim. You haven´t talked to anybody new in the last few weeks.”

“Yeah.”

“Jim, no.”

“What?”

“The only three people you have something resembling a relationship with are me, the Wayne kid, and Cobblepot.”

“And?” Okay, that sounded really defensive. Jim cringes.

“And?! Okay, I know it´s not me, because I never agreed to a date with you, and, while I would be flattered, I never will.”

“Now you broke my heart.”

“Stop the jokes. I hope to god it´s not the kid, but I know you. Tell me it´s not the kid?”

“Harvey!”

“Okay, I needed to hear that. So, using logic, there´s only Cobblepot left, and no matter what I said about you two, I don´t approve.” Harvey sounds like he´s sulking.

Jim shrugs. “See, Harvey, you´re my partner and I love you, but frankly, I don´t care.” With that said, Jim leaves.

“Goddammit, Jim! Come back here! Okay, be like that. If you end up with a knife in your ass, don´t blame me!”

 

***

_______________

 

Safe to say, he doesn´t end up with a knife in his ass or a gun to his head, which is a nice change.

And if he´s a bit late the next day, and still grinning, then Harvey sure as hell won´t say anything. Less he gets _details_.

 

____________

***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this is it.  
> I hope you enjoyed the story, and thanks to everyone who stuck with it until now.
> 
> I originally planned to write another chapter, but I couldn´t for the life of me think of something. So... *shrug*
> 
> As always, feedback is still much appreciated. ^.^


End file.
